


Git Merge Conflict

by mrsthessaly



Series: Conflict and Resolution [1]
Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Slurs, Eventual Smut, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pre-Season/Series 05, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-03-14 17:43:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 66,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13595121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsthessaly/pseuds/mrsthessaly
Summary: Often, solving a merge conflict is as simple as knowing and choosing the leading change. Sometimes, it requires more work. Dinesh Chugtai and Bertram Gilfoyle had different views and tools to deal with merging error.





	1. The Asian Dude's Overheat

     Dinesh first noticed the guy when they were setting their merch on an unimpressive table at FutureStack.  

     The only thing on his mind was the demotivating thought that it wouldn't work. Dinesh Chugtai may not be a marketing expert, but he's too smart not to realize Richard's idea to solve the problem with their active user rates is ineffective. He's also smart enough to notice it at the second convention they were in. Gilfoyle said he noticed before Ricard finished the sentence. The prick.  

     Looking up from the flyers he just organized, Dinesh raised his gaze to look around.  

     The big stands and cool VR tech were going to be the death of them.  

     The guy was looking at their table. Dinesh noticed him because no one was ever looking at their table.  

     He had tattoos showing on arms and neck and was wearing really tight black jeans with holes in the knees. A short chubby woman with a streak of blue in her hair was in front of him, talking enthusiastically, but the guy's eyes were firm on their humble table. She seemed to notice being ignored, jerking the guy's shoulder with a closed hand. He laughed softly and pointed. She turned. Dinesh raised an eyebrow and turned too.  

     Gilfoyle was stretching out to push a wire over the piece of dark plywood with their logo attached to it. After succeeding with a little jump, he resumed setting up their hardware.  

 _They must know each other_ , Dinesh thought with a shrug, and didn't think about it anymore. The guy and friend were gone, into their cool, expensive looking VR stand, when he looked again.  

  

  

     He was back before the gates opened to the public.  

     "Hey, I was looking at your app right now. Really mind-blowing."  

     “Oh, cool, thanks”, Dinesh replied. Gilfoyle didn’t even look up from the newsfeed he was scrolling down on his phone. “Take a flyer if you like. Are you with the Jeets? Your stuff seems pretty awesome from here.”

     “Social media, yeah. Nothing exciting. The programmers are the real stars here.” There was a snort from Gilfoyle, but the guy’s eyes were already on him long before that. “So, what is it you guys do, exactly?”  

     He finally put the phone down. Dinesh shut his eyes and praised himself for it.  

     “We're senior programmers. I'm a systems architect. I specialize in network security and system administration. All the real working code done at Pied Piper is mine. Dinesh does the pretty design.”  

     He sighed, rolled his eyes, thought  _yeah, that’s about right_  and moved forward to explain what he  _really_  does at Pied Piper.  

     Halfway through his explanation, Dinesh noticed he was not being paid attention to. Gilfoyle and the other man were both glaring at each other now. The guy had a little smile on the corner of his mouth.  

     “So he's Dinesh, I’m Jeong, and your name is…?”  

 _Jeong_  let the phrase trail off. There was a pause before an answer.  

     “Bertram”, said Gilfoyle, and Dinesh never called him that, so his only thought on the matter was that it was a really weird first name.  

     “That’s... unique. Nice to meet you, Bertram.” Jeong’s smile got bigger and now Dinesh was wondering if he found it a weird name too, but was being polite, and why the fuck was he being polite to Gilfoyle of all people?

     “I love that band” he said, gesturing to Gilfoyle's t-shirt.

     “You can guess my views on them on the fact that I’m wearing a shirt with their logo on it.”  

     Maybe it would be funny if said with a smile or a hint of playfulness, but with Gilfoyle’s dead facial expression and cold tone of voice, it was just plain rude. The guy laughed anyway.  

     “You went to their concert last month?”  

     “No.”  

     “Oh, that’s a bummer. It was awesome.”  

     “Did you post a lot of tweets about it?”  

     That one had Dinesh laughing. “He hates social media, you know? I think I’ve only seen him using Skype. He’s not even on Facebook!”  

     “Oh”, Jeong dropped his head to the side. A tongue flicked on his lips and eyes squeezed when he said: “I was going to ask for your Instagram account so I could check you out from my stand, but now I guess I’ve to just keep showing up here.”  

 _What. The._ _Fuuuuuuuuu_ _…_   

     “See you, Bertram. Bye Dinesh.”

     “Alright.”

 _..._ _u_ _u_ _u_ _u_ _u_ _u_ _uck_ _?!_  

     “Hm- ah. Oh, yeah, bye. What the fucking fuck was  _that_  about?!”  

     Gilfoyle uncrossed his arms to get the phone he'd dropped over the table. His face was still, like it always was, and tone impersonal and distant, like it always was.  

     “A social ritual you wouldn’t be familiar with. It’s called  _flirting_ , Dinesh. I would say you should try it sometime, but you'd need  to be found attractive or interesting by another human adult first, so nevermind that.”  

     “Fuck you.”  

     “That’s certainly one way flirting goes.”  

  

  

     “So…”  

     It’s two hours into the event and Jeong was parading in front of their table for the fifth or fiftieth time. Half of the time, Dinesh caught Gilfoyle watching him. In the other half, he was actually trying to talk to the visitors and didn't notice - it's amazing he's not willingly sabotaging this dead end job they were put into, but has conformed to direct his rage towards making fun of other people with Dinesh. A not unusual empty space has formed in front of their table, so Gilfoyle noticed this time and was following Jeong's movements with his eyes. The guy almost hit a cardboard Gavin Belson trying to look over his shoulder to know if Gilfoyle was still looking. He was. And he scoffed. 

     “Does this happen often? Gay guys hitting on you?”  

     Gilfoyle looked at him, both arms crossed over his chest, hard to know what he was thinking about. There was a short ironic laugh that always made Dinesh think of demons.  

     “What? What’s so funny?”  

     “Your homophobia is showing.”  

     “I’m not homophobic! I’m… just… I mean, it was way out of the blue, right?”  

     “We are not as tolerant of sexual intolerance in this part of the world. I’m afraid you can’t stone people here.”  

     “So that means I get to throw stones at you? Because you, you know, are not technically a-”  

     “You can’t throw a rock to save your life.”  

     “I’ll let you have this one because it's absolutely true.”  

  

  

     Dinesh doesn’t know when or how it changed, but it did change and there's nothing he can do about it.  

     While their back and forth seemed pretty standard from outside, it felt different inside.  

     They were at the hotel bar, crowded with other software engineers, coders, programmers and an impressive number of investors showing off nice suits. You could tell who is rich and who is sweating by the way they dress. Dinesh was in a rugby shirt and zip-up jacket, Gilfoyle in a band t-shirt and flannel, shoes worn out and cheap jewelry. They’re sweating alright. It’s all they've done in a long time.  

     “It’s over, isn’t it?” he asked, because things felt different inside and Dinesh was fighting a battle against drowning in it. All those years they spent dragging themselves around to ridiculous parties none of them wanted to go to gossiping, throwing insults, attacking, bickering and hurting each other, but never really making  any effort to look for a better company to spend the night with, suddenly clicked to Dinesh - and it was all Jared’s fault.  

 _You’re each other’s best friends._   

     Fuck you, Jared.  

     “Maybe”, Gilfoyle answered after a sip of his black beer. “But I’ve invested too much in this to watch it go down without a fight.”  

     “I can’t believe we stopped working on our apps for Pied Piper. The name must have flashed some lights about this being a bottomless pit, right?”  

     “I’m digging your empty soul right now, but to be fair, your app was going to suck anyway. This at least is a quality product your bullshit writing all over it couldn’t fuck up. Is not on us that people are too dumb to use it.”  

     “You’re such an asshole.”  

     “Thanks. Not your best comeback, though.”  

     Dinesh told himself he could have come up with something better if he wasn’t being distracted by Jeong and his blue-streaked-hair friend walking towards them. He probably wouldn’t, but he told himself that anyway. They brought extra drinks with them.  

     “How do you guys feel about shots, hm? Come on!”  

     Jeong sat a couple glasses in front of their hands. Gilfoyle gave a plain look at the shots, then took one, tossed the colored alcohol down his throat in one fluid motion and banged the glass back on the table with unnecessary force. What a pretentious jerk.  

     He fixed Dinesh with a daring kind of glare from across the table. So Dinesh took the dare, because you can't really say the game is on when it's never off, and of course, this too was a competition. Dinesh coughed once at the burning sensation.  

     “Keep them coming”, Dinesh said to Jeong, craving a win that night, and the guy smiled in return.  

  

  

     The talk was nothing but friendly, but it was making Dinesh highly uncomfortable.

    It's not that he's spent so much time with only Gilfoyle as company that he forgot how friendships usually worked, but what he sees whenever he looks over at Gilfoyle and Jeong is making him highly uncomfortable. So he doesn't, and engages in a conversation with Pam, Jeong's friend, who was a sales manager at Jeets. The topics of conversation the woman kept trying to broach were so boring he couldn't help but let his attention wander over towards Jeong's hand as it rested casually on Gilfoyle’s shoulder.  

     Jeong stroked Gilfoyle’s hair at one point. His  ~~friend~~  coworker had drank three beers and done four shots by the time in the night where the touching started. Maybe he was drunk, but Dinesh isn't sure. He was never good at telling if someone was wasted or high, and Gilfoyle's alcohol tolerance surely wasn't the same as a normal person. The man had a beer for breakfast, for fuck's sake.

     Watching Gilfoyle swallow yet another shot and Jeong helping him with a drop that spilt on his shirt, Dinesh contemplated the idea of letting that guy take a shitfaced Gilfoyle back to his room. Would it be too far for a prank? Or would it be comedy gold? Dinesh wished he could get it on camera, the reaction he would have, the look on that stoic face, to the realization he let a dude get all handsy on him after a couple shots. It would be a great win. 

     Dinesh planned on joking about it as soon as they were left alone, but Gilfoyle's coolness on the matter was making him too weird out to joke. Maybe he will get drunk at some point, but the skillful way he typed a message on his phone seemed sober enough. Dinesh knew there was another possibility, in which Gilfoyle picked his discomfort up and was just fucking with him. It sure sounded like a thing he would do. Jeong's hand squeezing his shoulder though, it's too much. Dinesh was just not there yet with a third explanation.

     Pam was talking about their projections for the coming weeks when Jeong leaned in and smelled Gilfoyle’s hair, almost putting his mouth on his  ~~best friend~~  housemate’s neck.  

     “You smell really good. What is it?”, he said only high enough for Dinesh to hear.  

      “Soap”, Gilfoyle answered. Jeong laughed harder than anyone should to something that bad-mannered. It is a mystery to Dinesh how anyone, fucking  _anyone_  could be attracted to such a prick.

     “You’re funny." That one is plain bullshit.  _Rude_  is not the same thing as  _funny._  "Can I get you anything else from the bar?”  

     “Another shot would be alright."  

     “Sure thing. Hey Pam, can you come with me for a second?”  

     He moved his head in a heavily suggestive way.  

     “Excuse me”, she said to him and smiled a cute smile Dinesh haven’t got from a woman in who knows how long. “I’ll be back in a second.” Her hand squeezed Dinesh’s before she got up and followed.  

     “I’m impressed”, Gilfoyle said once they’re alone at the table. Dinesh had been blankly staring at him for a long time and he knows it. It's what he's doing for most of the night, too weird out by the flirting guy all over the place to pay attention to the conversation. Is he really that disconnected to queer people? Is there even a queer community in Palo Alto? He always thought they were all sad little nerd guys who paid beautiful women that would never talk to them if they weren't rich for odd sex. “Seem like you’re going to manage an actual woman to sleep with you. Want me to show you some DDoS I just wrote this morning to get you ready?”  

     “What are you… Wait!” His eyes widen, body shooting forward, the highly uncomfortable feeling in his throat making his clothes feel too tight and body too hot all day gone in an instant. “Do you… Pa-… Nooo! Do you think she’s into me?”  

     Gilfoyle shrugged. Dinesh’s smile barely fit in his mouth.  

     “Oh my God! She is, isn't she?”  

     “Your surprise it's the saddest thing I have ever seen."  

     "Gilfoyle..." Without thinking twice, he placed elbows on the table and joined hands in prayer, expectant eyes staring at the other. "Please...  _Please_ don't ruin this for me."  

     "I take it back. Thinking you need my help with that is the saddest thing I have ever seen."  

     "So, you're not going to spend the rest of the night trying to make me look bad?"  

     "As I said", he took a sip of the beer. "You don't need my help to disgust women. Just be yourself."  

     "Thank you!", Dinesh half-shouted, half-whispered.  

     The mocking thumbs-up could have made him mad under another circumstances, but not when the possibility of sex is on the table. Dinesh happily drank the rest of the gin on his cup, and wondered if he shouldn't ask for a more...  _sexy_  drink. What did he tell her all night, anyway? He should file it for later, to use with other chicks, whatever it was. Was it being quiet and distant? He has heard some women dig that. What was he being quiet and distant for, anyway? Oh, right.  

     "The idea of sex is making you nervous giggle." It wasn't a question, but a salty affirmation intended to unbalance his confidence. Dinesh didn't take the bait. "What a turn on."  

     "No, is not that", he said and leaned in the other's direction to quietly whisper. "That dude thinks he is going to fuck you tonight. You noticed that, right?"  

     Gilfoyle took a moment to stare and Dinesh wondered if it would be possible he didn't notice. Then, a subtle change that came when he was enjoying other people's general suffering softened his face and he grabbed the bottle.  

     "Yep", he said and took a sip.  

     "He's going to be so pissed for paying for all these fucking expensive drinks."  

     "I say it's a small price, considering."  

     "Considering what?"  

    Gilfoyle said nothing. Dinesh felt that weird uncomfortable rush come back.

     " _Considering what?!_ " He was half-shouting, half-whispering again.  

     "Hey, Bertram." Jeong was back, a shot on one hand and a lighter on the other. Pam was already sitting at Dinesh's side. "Do you smoke? I have a joint. Want to share it outside?"  

     He shrugged again, not even looking at the man once, but eyes locked with an open-mouthed and eye-wide Dinesh. "Sure", and got up from the table. He grabbed the shot Jeong had brought from him and drank it in a single gulp, hair flying around his head, then dropped the empty cup on the table and flatly said to the other guy: "let's go."  

     His eyes met Dinesh one last time before he turned his back and started walking.  

  

  

     Pam ditched him.  

     Fucking Gilfoyle!  

    He was probably lying about her being into him to mock his dating failure later, because this is what that sadistic asshole pictured for a pleasant evening. Get under his skin. Rip out every chance of happiness or minor achievement from his life. And to think he was willing to accept they were, on their own limited, very loosely use of the word way, _friends_.  

     But guess it's true, then. He has no friends.

    Dinesh walked outside the bar and started wandering about the hotel's garden area looking for wherever the jackass was hiding. He forgot their shared room key was with him until trying to smoothly slide it over the table to Pam. The forced smile she made at his suggestion to go to her room broke his insides. They didn't hit off after Gilfoyle left with that guy. Her face fell to Dinesh's attempts at flirting. That cute little smile didn't show again.

     Fucking Gilfoyle.  

     Now, the act with Jeong was probably over the top. Was it worth it to involve an innocent person in their game? Did he have any moral compass about playing with other people's feeling to watch them squirm? Dinesh snorted to himself in the dark. Of course he hadn't. Gilfoyle had no way to understand the concept of feelings, being that cold-blooded devilish robot. He spends so much time with pieces of hardware he's probably symbiosing with them. Poor Jeong. Dinesh should have told him Gilfoyle only fucks things powered by batteries. And now he's wasting good jokes to himself. 

     And what was that about them having a _game_? It's not a game. It's mutual sabotage.  

     Dinesh will not give him the satisfaction of crying over this.  

     He found Gilfoyle behind the gazebo.  

     Dinesh froze on his spot.  

     It occurs to him, very vaguelly, that it's the first time he was actually seeing Gilfoyle make out with anyone. It also occurs to him, very strongly, that it was definitely not an act. Jeong dug both hands on his skull to play and pull at his hair, mouth covering Gilfoyle's whole. There's a growing movement of hips as they dry-hump against the wall. Dinesh could hear something from that distance but doesn't know to which one the moan belongs to or which would be worst.  

     "You're so hot..." That was definitely Jeong, and that weird spaced laugh was definitely Gilfoyle's. His eyes shot open and he raised a hand to arrange the glasses on his nose. And saw Dinesh. Both eyes squeezed with an implicit question that Dinesh has some idea what it could be, but not how to answer.  _How long has he_ _been_ _there?_   

     Jeong doesn't notice Dinesh and kisses Gilfoyle again.

      A part of him screams this is too weird, but he's still frozen under that gaze. Gilfoyle holds the back of the other guy's neck and keeps staring at Dinesh as their tongues connected. This is too weird. He knows he is being messed with, he knows Gilfoyle is getting off on his discomfort, his breakdown, his unmoving body. He knows him doing that just to spite a person he despises is too much, even for Gilfoyle, and kissing that man may not be a joke, but that moment was. The same as every bait Gilfoyle ever laid in front of his feet. Dinesh could see the string, but still reached for the meal under the cage. It was just too hard to resist.  

     Fucking Gilfoyle.  

  

  

     "So... Hm. Can I have your number?"  

     "I think is better if you don't", said Pam. Dinesh wasn't surprised, but a part of him still lingered with disappointment. It was almost disappointing enough for wash over the joy of fresh sex. Almost, but not enough. A smile played on his mouth as leaving the room.  

     He had sex.  

     He fucking had sex.  

     He fucking fucked.  

     It doesn't matter if she kicked him out first time in the morning. It doesn't matter if she only opened the door because she felt sorry for him having nowhere to sleep because of her friend taking his room. She let him stay overnight, and she let him do sex on her. That's all he needs, really. Or at least what he plays in his head as going down the hall to the elevator with a swag on his walk. He's fucking Pakistani Casanova. Nothing could kill his vibe right now.  

     The elevator doors slide open and Jeong was there. With Gilfoyle. And the smile was easier to kill than Dinesh anticipated.  

     "Heeey! Good morning, Ramesh! Did you have fun last night?"  

     "Yeah Ramesh, tell us about your night", Gilfoyle said with that glow of sadism in his eyes.  

     "Ahmm... It was good? Good."  

     "I knew it! Pam is really into Indian dudes, you know? I don't know what the fuck is that about. Is it racist? I'm pretty sure it's racist in a messed up fetishist way."

     There's a lot of things wrong about that Dinesh wants to correct, but he just had sex, and this is the topic of the conversation they are having, so he just puts on a smile, wiggles his eyebrows and shows both palms in a smug way.  

     "I don't mind being fetishized."  

     "I just changed my mind again. This is the new saddest thing I've ever heard." Dinesh shot Gilfoyle a look that meant only one thing: don't!  

     Jeong was putting a hand on the door to keep it from closing.  

     "This is my floor." He walked off, hand still on the door, and gave Dinesh a brief smile before turning a full grin to Gilfoyle, who leaned against the wall with arms crossed and dead fish eyes. It's the blankest look a human can have. Dinesh has no idea how someone could smile like that in response and considers whether Gilfoyle hadn't put some kind of Satanist spell on the guy with his spit. And now he's thinking about them sharing spit. It made his stomach hurt. "It was fun."

     "Yeah", is all Gilfoyle had to say.  

     "So, hm. I guess I see you around.  _Against Me_  is playing next month, I think you would like it. If you listen and decide to go, give me a call."  

     "Sure, I will look for the person tweeting on the crowd."  

 _Is that Gilfoyle fucking flirting back with a_   _goth_   _Asian_   _dude_ _?!_   

     Jeong laughed and leaned forward. Dinesh quick turned around and looked to anywhere, literally anywhere but them sharing a goodbye kiss.  

     The elevator doors closed.  

     They stood side by side, not looking or touching, only embraced by thick tense air. Dinesh changed the weight on his legs constantly, staring deeply at the floor.  

     "Go ahead", Gilfoyle hissed.  

     "WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT THE..." He lowered his voice and himself to complete: " _Fuuuuuck_ , Gilfoyle?! I didn't know you were gay? Why didn't I know you're gay?"  

     "Because I'm not."

     "So, wait... Is this a prank? Are you fucking paying that guy to mess with me?"  

     He chuckled, eyes still locked on the closed door even with Dinesh's eyebrows dancing on his contorted face at his side.  

     "No, I'm not hiring an actor to prank you about my sexuality. It would be unnecessarily expensive and overly complicated." The doors opened again at the restaurant. They were having breakfast for free that morning. Gilfoyle finally looked at him and a light curve on the corners of his mouth almost reminded him of a smile. "As you didn't come back last night, we fucked on my bed but slept in yours. Hope you don't mind it, Ramesh."

     "Nice! That's... You know that's not my name."

     He was already out of the elevator.  

  

  

     Typical Gilfoyle to ruin everything good in his life.  

     Dinesh just had sex at a tech convention. Two things that didn't happen often came together like a beautiful rainbow: having sex at a tech convention, and Dinesh having sex. He should be picking flowers and sending details to his cousin, but the only thing he could think of is that Gilfoyle had sex too. In their shared room. With another dude. Another dude who looked like an edgy K-Pop singer.  

     He was caught looking at the messy sheets on the bed he was supposed to sleep in last night while they packed their things. Gilfoyle only hmphed and turned away, not even bothering on stop brushing his teeth to make any comment. The knowledge that he saw Dinesh looking at that was going to eat him inside badly enough. 

      Barely any words were exchanged on their way to the car. The shame of putting Pied Piper's stuff in an Avito car in front of all those people distracted Dinesh away from his other embarrassment for a moment, but once they're on the road back home, he felt his skin itch. He clears his throat.

     "So...", he tried out. "You said you aren't gay."  

     "Nope."  

     "Right! Yes, Tara. I totally forgot about... Are you cheating on her?"  

     "We don't believe in monogamy."  

     "Yes, yes. I forgot about that too."  

     "You didn't forget, you're just not accessing old information right because your brain is functioning at over capacity processing new images of me having gay sex."  

     Dinesh blinked, laughed, tried to say a lot of things, but end up saying nothing and shutting up.  

     "It's not like that", he tried again a minute later. "It was just... Surprising? I haven't considered that. Do I owe you an apology? I feel like I owe you an apology."

     "For what? Being weird about this? Don't worry, my default reading of your social skills is normally set at weird."

     "No? For all the gay jokes I said to your face?"  

     "Please...", Gilfoyle snorted. "I understand western culture and sex are new things for you."  

     "I've lived here for the most part of my life. I've been an American citizen longer than you have!"

     "And you haven't been a virgin for less than twenty-four hours. Give it time."  

     There's an eye-roll, a sigh, and Dinesh looked out of the window, asking himself why he even bothered. It's like trying to pet a hedgehog.  

     He remembers Jared.  

     Fuck you, Jared.  

     "Fuck you", he said to Gilfoyle. "So, you are... Like, bi, then."  

     Gilfoyle sighed once more, not for a second taking his eyes off the road.  

     "No."  

     "I'm lost here."  

     "To be bisexual one has to say they're attracted to both genders, right? I believe gender is a social construct intended to maintain a status quo, and I live to destroy all sorts of status quo. People don't get to tell shit about you for the shape of your reproductive system. I don't believe in reinforcing gender, so I don't say I'm bisexual."  

     "What... do you... What do you say you are, then? What are you attracted to?"  

     Gilfoyle shrugged. "People."  

     "Oh, that's... Actually nice of you. I thought you hated people."  

     "Don't get any ideas, I do hate people. But I do like sex. Different things."

     "You're disgusting."  

     "When you say this isn't a thing you considered, how often exactly do you consider me in a sexual manner, Dinesh?"  

     "Fuck you."  

     "I just did", he answered with a smile. "It was nice." 

     And now he was picturing Gilfoyle in the receiving part of sex with a dude. Dinesh groaned. The motherfucker just entered his head.  

    A fast glimpse to the side and Dinesh knows that Gilfoyle knows what he is thinking about. The guy is like a mindreading ninja. Somehow, he always could cut through Dinesh's bullshit like shoving a fist into a bowl of water. In that case, the bowl of water was his dry mouth and unsettled hands. He could use water now. He could use opening the door of the moving van, throwing himself out and starting to run.  

     "Are you still hanging on to the Techcrunch code gay joke? Windows updated a billion times since that, you should try one."

     "I'm used to having you pop a boner for every line of code I write by now. At this moment, I'm just curious to understand why you can't drop the topic." As Dinesh replied nothing, just kept looking out of the window, Gilfoyle waited a moment before putting his finger on the open wound he didn't know what opened or the depth of it because even Dinesh couldn't entirely understand where he got that bruise or the slashed throat. But he was eager to dig it out. Dinesh could sense the predator smell on him and replayed in his mind every outcome scenario for a man with his physical construction to throw himself out of a moving car. "You do realize this is the only thing you have talked to me about since last night, right? Am I breaking naive Dinesh's sense of right and wrong in the world? Newsflash: your religion is a lie, your parents are assholes, there is no God, you can do whatever the fuck you want whenever the fuck you want."  

     "Oh my God, you sound so much like a moody teenager right now. Do you write dark poetry about this stuff? I bet you had painted fingernails and a goth boyfriend in high school."

     "Yep."  

     "Wait. To which part?"  

     "Painted fingernails and goth boyfriend."  

     "See? This is what I don't understand!" he suddenly burst out. "I've known you for a very long time. We live together. We work together. We play video games and make fun of people and you make fun of me. You've seen me and the guys flirting with women and doing gay jokes and just being, you know? And suddenly there's a goth boyfriend and an Asian dude and you have a girlfriend, but you guys are open, which is already a really messed up concept for me, and oh wait you also like cock?! How this never showed up before? How did I not know this?"  

     His breath was heavy inside the quiet car when his voice stopped cracking. Dinesh regrets it the moment he closed his mouth.  

     "Let me get this straight." Here it comes. "You're upset..." Dinesh gritted his teeth. "...because I didn't drop a memo at your desk..." Please, just make it be a quick one. "...saying I'm not straight?"  

     Dinesh opened the eyes he didn't know he had shut.

     "You're at best a coworker of mine. I don't have to justify any of my actions of life choices to you. I probably owe Jared more explanations that I owe you, Dinesh. I don't owe you shit. Don't read into this not showing up before as me trying to hide anything, I'm just not as desperate for social validation or to turn my personal life into a game. This game for teenagers you, as an adult man, are dying to participate in, it's just pitiful. Don't assume you know me. You don't."

     Dinesh felt his head and chest palpitating in different rhythms.

     "It didn't show up before because people in Silicon Valley are disgusting in general, but men in Silicon Valley are a particular level of scumbag. Not that I know why you would care, but for the sake of clarifying things."

 _Because, against all the odds, you're my friend,_  he thinks with hands into fists. _And probably the only one I have_ , _asshole, so I should know you better than this._  His face twists.  _He's not my friend._   

     "Alright. Jesus, Gilfoyle. I was just curious."  

    An urge to argue has to be fought to the ground. It's a risk to say anything to him; Dinesh knows every word is just ammunition that can and will be used to put him down. Gilfoyle was right. They're not friends. And he was right about another thing, because of course he was. Dinesh can't bring himself to stop thinking about it and drop the topic. And he hates not to bring himself to analyze the depth of that bruise. But he can't and won't look at it. He can't and won't have feelings towards that hateful piece of shit. Let it hurt.

     Dinesh is a smart guy. He's smarter than most guys (and girls), actually. He has the certificates to prove it, but not the bank account - yet. He should have known then, even before he finished that sentence, that Jared was wrong. 

      He puts on his headphones and turns on some music.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plan was to have the complete work posted before Season 5 aired, but boy has this ship sailed... Anyway, I already wrote five chapters and have three more halfway done, so yep it's going to get updated to the end and it's going to be ten chapters total. Hope you guys enjoy the ride. I'll try to stick to a new chapter once a week, but maybe it will be more?
> 
> Oh, and English is not really my first or second language, so I'm sorry if there's lots of erros. Be free to point them out, and I'm open if someone wants to beta the chapters that are already done :)


	2. Can’t you see? You’re each other's

      "You were doing alright until I said she was into you. Can you see the problem I'm pointing out here?"

     Dinesh flicked his tongue and groaned, knowing he looked like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It's probably the weed's fault. But he was the one who asked for the weed in the first place, so maybe it's his fault. Everything was always his fault. His mother was right, he is such a بیوقوف.

     "Yes, women hate me, I'm the dogface, haha." His voice sounded huffed under the pillow he brought outside to curl around in the deck chair by the pool. It was probably late, all the house lights already off. Gilfoyle was at his side, a hand behind his head, killing the joint by himself after he figured Dinesh couldn't take another drag and stay up. He was going to do it alone, anyway. He wasn't expecting to find Dinesh doing a one-man scene in the dark. 

     At least he didn't dwell on that for long, quickly changing the topic to Dinesh's inability to smoke without coughing his lungs off.

     "You spent years in college, but can't do weed."

     "It so happens I was studying, you know? The thing colleges are for? Does it surprise you too, since you probably were there just to get chlamydia?"

     "Yes, I was having sex in college. The joke is on me."

     "Fuck off."  

     "Dinesh." 

     "Leave me alone, man." 

    But Gilfoyle was just trying to pass the joint along. When Dinesh didn't turn, he leaned in his chair and reached for that thin patch of skin showing on the other's lower back, where the shirt pulled out. Dinesh had his back to him, hugging the stupid pillow tight. He started a scream when Gilfoyle pressed the burning tip on his back, managing to stuff it in the last second.

     "Not cool, man! Not cool! What the hell?! You fucking burned me! What is your problem? Did your alcoholic mom used to put cigarettes out on your forehead and now you think this is an okay thing to do to people?" 

     "It barely touched you. Pussy." But it probably did more than he intended, because the joint was off when he tried to take a drag. Gilfoyle took the lighter off his jeans. Dinesh rubbed his back, cursing under a breath and throwing dagger glares as Gilfoyle lit it back up.

     "Hey, can I do another one?" 

     "No." 

     "Come on, don't be a jerk." 

     "You drooled on it." 

      "Weren't you trying to pass it to me just now? Come on." 

      "Fuck, alright" he said with a head shake. "Here, princess. Don't lick it, it's not your boyfriend's cock."

      Dinesh had done weed before, one or two times. Okay, one time, at a party in college. It was so strong, or maybe he was so weak, that instead of getting high and looking cool he just got painfully sleepy and looked like a loser passing out on the floor. Someone drew a dick on his cheek. He was aware that there was a real danger of getting himself a dick on the cheek again. Giving his co-programmer's sense of humor, he would not be surprised if Gilfoyle had it tattooed in permanent ink. Dinesh would worry that maybe it was not a good idea to smoke with him if he hadn't already established it wasn't a good idea to be around Gilfoyle in general. Somehow, it kept happening. He coughed and passed the joint back.

     He was too sad to deal with bickering.

      "It's not like she was really into me", he said sometime later, when he was talking to Gilfoyle, of all people, about things he was feeling and blaming it on the weed he just had, even though it wasn't as much, and even though he did tell Gilfoyle things about his life even when he wasn't sad and stoned – Dinesh was sure he wasn't stoned, but he thought it would be easier to play it as if he was. Being vulnerable around someone who feeds on your emotional pain gets tiresome. Maybe that's why he talks to Gilfoyle, of all people. He always had way of knowing things, so this way Dinesh at least controlled how he found out. And there was no point in hiding your flaws from someone who already knows every mile of them. "When I started talking, she immediately shut off, you know? And with Elizabeth she was really into me, but then she saw my face and now she's married."

     A hiss to his side showed Gilfoyle was finding his misery quite funny. Dinesh wasn't expecting anything less. He was just tired, sad, stoned and venting. The pillow over his head smelled like Jared's moisturizing and weed. 

     "How would it work, anyway? We would, like, go out for some time, and then she would one day say  _'hey_ _,_ _let's go to that new_ _Pakistani_ _place, I heard is pretty good!'_ , and I would be like,  _'oh no, I don't really eat Pakistani here, it makes me homesick, is_ _not_ _that good anyway, I ha_ _ve to call my mom_ _... Let's just get Indian food'_ , and she would be outraged!  _'You're not Indian?! That's a deal breaker for me. Nope, no way, bye'._ " 

     "You get homesick?" 

     That's the piece of information he's holding on to in that monologue? Maybe he's too high to play attacking jokes too. 

     "Sometimes. Not every time. Don't you?"

     "No. Everywhere is the same shit. People don't change."

     "Anyway. It probably wouldn't work out with Elizabeth either."

      "What tipped you off? The fact that she lives a continent away, or that she hates your face?"

     "You do the whole long-distance romance thing. You should know."

    There was no sharp reply or even the usual hmm to that. Dinesh heard him shifting on the other chair and took the pillow away, turning to face Gilfoyle. He was struggling to light a very small piece of remnant weed.

     "So, you were saying before..." He sat up. Gilfoyle gave him the hmm in response, lying down the most comfortably he could manage. The chairs weren't that comfortable. "When you asked if I could see the problem, what is it? Are you saying it's the way I talk to them or something?" 

    "I'll put it this way." There was no weed anymore, so he just crossed his arms and looked up to the few stars visible from the city. "There's a car crash on the road. You're told not to look because there will be bloody body parts all over, a weeping widow and probably a dead kid. But you look anyway. It's just human, you know? We are built to overlook external pain and be glad that it didn't happen to us. Well, your flirting is the car crash. Everybody you talk to is dead."

     "Not helping."

     "Oh, I'm sorry you were under the impression I'm trying to help you."

     "No, you aren't", he said low, mostly to himself, but of course mindreading ninja would know. "So, what are you doing here? Getting a late-night snack of despair before going inside your coffin?"

     "I'm a vampire or a dementor, I can't be both. Although, yeah, it would be pretty awesome. Also, I smoke outside now. Erlich has some sniffer dog superpowers and I can't have him in my stuff again. I'm planning on pissing in his yogurt. Or maybe I'll rub his yogurt spoon on my asshole."

     Dinesh laughed, his chest still heavy, but his head felt lighter than he would expect from the little weed he had managed to drag into his lungs. "Both. Both is good."

     They didn't talk again for a while. Gilfoyle kept counting the stars or whatever, absorbed in the night sky, while Dinesh was drawn by the glow of the neighbor's house lights over their swimming pool. Until he decided to strike up a conversation.

      "Seriously though", he said, turning his head on the chair to look at Gilfoyle. "You're into dudes, right? What's wrong with me?" 

     Gilfoyle laughed. He actually laughed. Not a snort or an ironic  _ha!_ , but curling forwards towards his knees and laughing. It was just a second, but it was there. Dinesh wanted to beat him up with a baseball bat. 

    He looked at Dinesh, impassive from outside, but his eyes betrayed entertainment. Dinesh asked himself, not for the first time, not for the last time, why he even talks to that person if he knows the outcome is just picking up slices of himself from the ground. He wishes he could do it to him. Watch Gilfoyle come down that pedestal, realize what a sad little nerd he is, just like the rest of them, that he is not deep or cool or whatever he thinks his character is. And that he's just telling himself a lie about being an introvert, hurting people before they could hurt him, because it's easier than to admit no one wants to be his friend and he's just as socially unfit as any person in Silicon Valley. Fuck, he should say that. Dinesh wishes he could win that argument, but he knows he probably wouldn't. The only thing that would happen, though, was Gilfoyle might stop talking to him or beat him up. He fights the notion in his flying mind that he would probably prefer the beating, if it ever came to that breaking point. They could survive a physical fight. They couldn't survive a hit that low. Dinesh probably could. Gilfoyle, not so much.

     Maybe it would be better if he said it and they didn't survive that. There was no reason to extend that distressing game of mutual sabotage. He's calling it that so he wouldn't use the real word for what they do. They're  ~~bullies~~  saboteurs. 

     "It actually took longer than I expected for you to ask if I would fuck you."

     "This is not what I'm asking! Oh my God!" Dinesh sat up in a jump. "Forget it. Don't make it weird, please. Just drop it."

     "No, now I really want to answer that question." He sat too, moving his torso so he was facing Dinesh and putting both legs over the armrest. This was not going to be a fun ride. "Are you familiar with", he started off, index and thumb pressed together in a  _matter of fact_   _way,_ "the expression: not if you were the last man on Earth?"

     "Fuck you."

     "Want to know why?" 

     "Because I'm the dogface", he said in a groan, eyes on the ground, bitter on his voice. 

     "Actually, no. Attractiveness is subjective as fuck, and we know many dogfaces who are getting laid. Jared. Erlich is a sorry excuse for a man, but even he gets laid. Probably not much, but still. You don't because you’re too insecure", there was a pause, as if he's waiting to be argued with. Dinesh said nothing, so he continued. "And your self-esteem is as low as your match rate on Tinder. You're a very high-maintenance, desperate person with awkward to hard-to-watch-without-crying social skills. A grown man who beats himself up over a bad date is not hot to anyone. So, yeah, not if you were the last man on Earth. In an apocalypse scenario, I would tap Erlich, Jared... Hm, also Jian Yang before I would do you."

     "Well, the joke is on you, then, because you're definitely getting chlamydia if your first choice is Erlich."

     "And you can't face reality without getting defensive and passive-aggressive because you're a coward and a liar." He put his legs back on the chair and laid down. "If this so-called apocalypse killed every person in the world and in this house were left only the ones who can actually put a line of code together, it would be me, you and Richard. In the case that I'm bored of jerking my massive cock off, you should praise your virgin asshole. I would pick you over Richard."

     "You're the most disgusting person ever, why do I even talk to you? What am I doing?" 

     "I already answered that. It's because you have no self-esteem and no friends." 

     There was nothing but silence and wind for a very long time. 

     "Hey, Gilfoyle?" 

     "Hm?" 

     "I fucking hate you."

     "I know."

 

 

    "Also", he talked later, so much later Dinesh was almost sleeping and had no idea what he was talking about or why he started a sentence out of nowhere and stopped at "also". He understood once Gilfoyle finished that thought. "Because you have this need to put on a facade with everybody else. Everyone does to a certain degree, but yours is pathological. To be likable, even if they don't like you, but a persona you made up. You can't stand yourself, so you perform as someone better. Not with the other guys in the house, but not because you're comfortable in your skin next to them, but because I won't let you forget that's not the real you. I foil the lies you tell yourself and others one by one. I'm not polite enough to pretend I'm being fooled. You said yourself, you hate me, so you don't care enough to try to be pleasant. It's tiring to try to please people all the time. That's why I don't do it. I'm glad we don't bullshit each other."

     That was oddly comforting. 

     Gilfoyle got up from his chair. 

     "I'll get a beer", he said and walked away. 

 

 

    "Well, being truthful with you, he was probably a Rapunzel chaser."

    They were both sitting up on the deck chairs, a beer in Dinesh's hand, a few empty Old Rasputin beside Gilfoyle's chair and a couple more cooling in a bag of ice. Their knees weren't touching, but faced the same side. It was definitely way too late.

    "What the fuck is that?", Dinesh laughed. He'd had three beers, so he was light headed as fuck.

    "People who dig men with long hair."

    "This is not a thing. How can this possibly be a thing? No one likes men with long hair, we're not in medieval times. Or Lord of The Rings. Or in a T-rated rock musical for girls with colored hair not old enough for us to make out with, but old enough to be our daughters."

    "Yet, I'm the one with a girlfriend. Hm." He had a smug look when he took a sip, but quickly turned his eyes somewhere else. Dinesh zipped up his hoodie. It was getting cold. "Speaking of which, I sent an invitation to Tara for your video chat thing. There was a bug in the response time for calls over thirty minutes long, so I merged your modified code to the main branch and cleaned up the build file for the data storage module. It's running smoothly now."

   "Ok", he said and put the legs up on the chair, hugging his knees close to the chest. "What was the bug? It froze or something?" 

     "The quality went bad. Really bad. Her tits looked like someone put a pixelated censorship bar on them. She will probably be using it to show them around, so let them have the full experience."

     "You think she would show them to me?" 

     "You think this will show clearly on your video thing?", he flipped a finger. 

     "Yeah, it probably would because it's amazing and you know it."

     "It is good now that I fixed it. I just told you there was a massive bug in it."

     "Every app has bugs", Dinesh groaned, yawning.

     "Maybe every app you work on has bugs, and that tells me more about your programming skills than about how apps are supposed to look like when finished."

     "Maybe your mom had a bug."

     "That... Doesn't make any sense, but yeah, bitch probably did."

 

 

     "Hey, Dinesh. Are you feeling sleepy?" 

     "I thought I was, but... No, not really."

     "Wanna go inside and play Battlefield?" 

     "People are sleeping."

     "We play it on mute." 

     "…Alright."

 

 

     Erlich was yelling Jian Yang's name when Dinesh entered the kitchen, and something about Alcatraz? Hadn't that ended yet? He really, really didn't care. It was difficult to keep up with his insane lifestyle or career choices lately, and Dinesh had a terrible headache, and he really, really didn't care.

     "Hey man", Bighead greeted him, the straw of a milkshake in his mouth. 

     "You know he bankrupted you, right?", he said in a drowsy state, melted by how dumb that child someone lost in Silicon Valley looked. He marched to the fridge to fetch something to eat and tried to remember how old Bighead was. Probably the same as Richard? Surely too old to be listening to fucking Erlich or believing in Santa Claus, who were basically in the same bullshitting tier.

     "Who?" 

     And Dinesh smacked his forehead on the fridge's door for a moment, eyes tight shut. 

     "Oh, Bachmanity? Funny you say that, hah. My lawyer told me the same thing."

     There you go. Stupidity at its finest. 

     "You guys deserve each other", he whispered to himself, grabbing some sliced cheese and egg salad from a Tupperware tagged with his name.

     Erlich shouted for Bighead from the yard, and with a painful  _fuck!,_ Dinesh massaged both eyes with a thumb and index finger.

     "I got to go", said Bighead as he got up, and God knows why anyone would listen to what fucking Erlich has to say, but the guy had a calling to deal with dumb people. People he wouldn't dare call programmers. They couldn't program an Excel spreadsheet, for fuck's sake, let alone build an entire app. What does it say about him that he's in the same living situation as those losers?

     "Good morning, Dinesh!" And that's Jared.

     "Hey, good morning", he greeted back, not really awake enough to snap at the guy. With the amount of stress Pied Piper was under lately, the anemic giraffe probably didn't need any more reasons to be miserable. Not that any of them ever saw him truly miserable. It was like talking to a real-life Muppet. "Want some juice?"

     "Oh no, I already had breakfast, but thank you." He sat by the counter and opened his laptop, but didn't face it, looking right at Dinesh with expectant big eyes. "So..." Dinesh frowned, shrugging to illustrate he had no idea what's up. "Are you feeling better?" 

     "Dude, what are you talking about?"

     "You looked a little... low morale last night." His face shrank with concern, but soon lightened up. "I saw you by the pool and tried to get Gilfoyle to go over there, since you two are closer than me and you, but he", Jared cleared his throat, nervous laughing, and of course Dinesh already knew Gilfoyle probably wasn't pleasant facing that suggestion. "Told me to choke on his hairy left ball? So, I was going to talk to you myself, but on my way, I saw he was already there! And you were engaging in a social activity I personally do not... Hm, I cannot officially approve, with the position I have at this company, but, off the record, if it's working for you guys, I'm really glad."

     "Jared", Dinesh said slow and caution, doing his best not to be betrayed by his own tone of voice. He put the egg sandwich on a plate and turned to face him. "Go choke on my hairy right ball." 

     Jared was still nervously laughing when Dinesh walked out of the kitchen and into the working area.

      He sat down to eat while watching some random episode of Friends. There was no one there yet. Lately, it feels like he and Gilfoyle were the only people actually getting work done. Actually, it felt like that from the beginning, like they're the incubator's worker-bees - and Dinesh is really relieved he only used this comparison on his head, it would not be as nice to argue through as the whole jazz-punk rock dilemma.

   They slept late because of all the beer, snacks and videogames. Or early, depending on the point of view. It was not the first time. Something told him it wouldn't be the last. Dinesh was watching  _The_ _One with the_ _Embryos_ , but his thoughts were on Jared. Fuck you, Jared. 

     He was halfway through  _The_ _One with R_ _achel's_ _C_ _rush_  when a cup of coffee was shoved over to his side of table. He paused the video, turning to see Gilfoyle sit at his workstation with a cup of his own and a bowl of dry cereal. They'd finished all his boxes last night, he must have gone out.

     "Thanks", he said and grabbed the coffee. A careful sip confirmed it was just his usual order, no tricks.

    They get coffee for each other from time to time. It started off as a joke, when Gilfoyle thought it would be funny to have princess written on Dinesh's cup, and after that it became a game. Dinesh put an end to it when he found himself walking to the counter at the coffee shop to grab an order for Dinesh and Sodomite Gremlin. It was just not worth the embarrassment. He came back ten minutes later to make a regular order. The cashier had him spelling Gilfoyle, but she had no trouble with Sodomite Gremlin.

     His cup, though, still read  _Princess_  with a heart dotted  _i_. 

     "No problem", Gilfoyle answered, back to him, eyes rolling through a line of code. 

     Dinesh closed the Friends tab and leaned back, arms over the chair rest. 

     "I was thinking..." 

     "Shocking."

     "Funny, thought of that one yourself?", he forced out a laugh. Gilfoyle finally turned to look at him. "You know how HooliChat is  supposed to respond to voice command since the last update, but no one uses it because... Well, it doesn't work? I could fix that. Integrate it into PiperChat's system."

     "PiperChat?"

     "Yeah, it's what I've been calling the app in my head. Don't you like it?"

     "Sounds like a chat service for gay dudes to get blowjobs."

     "You loved it, then?"

     Gilfoyle turned his chair around without a word and began typing fast. Dinesh turned too after a moment looking at the back of his head. 

     "Hit me with the files, I'm building the voice command module."

     "Ok, I'm sending you the location on the server."

     "Got it."

     Dinesh took another sip of his coffee and hit the keyboard. It was going to be a long day, but he felt really good about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, updating in the middle of the week is a tough one. Hope you guys enjoy it.  
> And major thanks to blipblopblork for doing an amazing work correcting my grammar <3 Seriously, they're amazing! I updated the first chapter with the changes they pointed out, if someone want to check it - it's sooo better now!  
> See you next friday.


	3. There is no “we”

    Gilfoyle was curious about what Erlich said, and puzzled by Dinesh's agreement.

    "...as an anarchist, would never accept a position of authority in any official organization. None." He said nothing, as if Erlich wasn't putting words in his mouth, the Old Rasputin cold in his hand, because it was true. His political views are the only rules he lives by. It made sense. But Gilfoyle did wanted to be asked; he was the best coder this company ever saw, he was the most functional human in the house, he deserved to be CEO. Not that any of them would know he wanted to be asked, because it betrayed everything he believed in, and what is a man if he can't live up to his own standards? "And you", Erlich pointed Dinesh, "of course, are out of the picture because Gilfoyle would never allow it."

    Gilfoyle smirked, tilting his head to the side.

    "Yeah, that's true", said Dinesh in a sad little sigh.

    Gilfoyle remained motionless. He looked from Erlich to Dinesh and back to Erlich, and thought: _what the fuck is happening?_

    When did he become a key party to be consulted on Dinesh's professional matters - or any kind of matter? When did he become the only party preventing Dinesh from accomplishing anything? And when it become common knowledge amongst his housemates that Gilfoyle had any say in Dinesh's affairs? And why the fuck is Dinesh abiding?

    Something held his breath thin when Dinesh sat in front of him, nervous, expectant, not a drop of honor or moral code on his bones preventing him from shamelessly begging another man. He was pathetic. And Gilfoyle let himself be dragged into that.

    "Spoken like a true leader", he said, and caught himself not really caring, made himself ramble half a dozen words that later would exempt him from publicly doing anything to Dinesh other than showing the world how pathetic he was.

    He wished they could have asked him, but he would have turned it down if they did. If it had to be someone, he was happy for Dinesh.

    And what the fuck.

 

 

    He bought champagne. He bought champagne because Dinesh was CEO for two whole days and he had already brought two new bags of clothes to the house. So Gilfoyle bought champagne because he knew this was not going to end well, and he is an engineer. He breathes caution.

    The champagne was expensive and was going to come in the form of four high bills on his brand-new credit card. The price is nothing for the taste of victory. After months of working for free for Richard with just the hope of a  multi-million dollar payoff, Gilfoyle was pretty much broke and pretty much bored. He used to live off of cereal because he never learned how to boil an egg and it tasted good. Now, he was living off of cereal because he couldn't really afford anything else. And he spent his first paycheck on a bottle of expensive champagne. That's not, - he tells himself for maybe the sixth time as coming out of the store - that's not a moron move.

    Gilfoyle walked into the Hacker Hostel wondering how many months will pass until Erlich realized they're living in his incubator without working on any app themselves, which surely invalidates the purpose of their arrangement. He was more than ready to join Jian Yang in the squatting situation if Erlich managed a day sober enough to put two and two together.

    "Enjoying your first PiperChat paycheck, I see?"

    "Jesus Christ!", he almost bumped his head on the fridge door, Jared hovering over him from the other side.

    "Aren't you supposed to be a Satanist?", Dinesh asked with a nonchalant tone in his voice, passing through the kitchen and into the living room with a couple files on his hands. He had on a dark blazer, and some slick gunk in his hair he must think made him look like a successful businessman only made him look exactly like what he was: a thirty year old man trying too hard to look cool. He was reading the papers as he walked, confident he's the new Zuckerberg.

    A comeback came to his throat and Gilfoyle swallowed it back down, because oh yeah, it will taste so much better with a glass of champagne when it's time.

    "Planning something special for the champagne?" Jared was sitting by the counter with his laptop and smiling broadly. Some quirk on his cheek betrayed he was dying inside being apart from Richard. Gilfoyle noticed his weary attempts at conversation had increased substantially in the last two days.

    "Yes. I'm naming it Go to Hell in a Handbasket", he said and closed the door, a beer in his hand. "It's for when Dinesh fucks up really bad."

    "Oh", Jared's face melted, a sad, yet thoughtful expression in his eyes. "I've been meaning to talk to you about this", he closed the laptop, crossing both hands on top of it and breathing long and hard before starting again. "Gilfoyle, I know you did agree that  Dinesh should become CEO, but are you prepared to deal with the outcome of this shift in your professional relationship? I know you two have a very... uncanny companionship, but Dinesh is your boss now. Our boss. You shouldn't be saying those things, and especially not to me."

    Gilfoyle took a long sip of his beer, Jared waiting expectantly for a reply.

    "Okay", he finally said.

    Pulling back on the stool, Jared blinked fast a couple times. He didn't seem prepared for this to be that easy.

    "Oh", he did that surprised sound again. "I'm glad we talked, then. Just making sure we are all on the same page here." A hm is all the other replied, Gilfoyle is already turning around when Jared talks again: "It's just so odd for me to think about you two being separate parts of this company. I was expecting to sense some discomfort, at least in this early adjustment weeks. I understand PiperChat has a different dynamic than Pied Piper, with... Richard's absence."

    Gilfoyle turned around again, facing Jared completely. He got something from that, something he'd been rolling around his head since that  _ Gilfoyle would never allow it _ two nights ago, and weight if it is worth to pull the curtain. He knows what Jared thinks. It has been fun watching Dinesh's face sink with a mix of disturbed emotions to being hit with the idea that not only he doesn't have any friends, but he's desperate enough for approval, companionship, intimacy or just any kind of human contact he would let himself think Gilfoyle is his best friend. The man who has done nothing but step on his toes since day one. Jared's thoughts on whatever he has with Dinesh are not something Gilfoyle would ever consider, after all, that is just Jared being this hopeless optimistic life coach. He can't avoid it. He just is a cup-half-full kind of person. What he's considering, though, is the evidence. Gilfoyle didn't know there even was evidence, but they seemed to keep showing up.

  "Could you elaborate on that?", he asked.

    Jared lighted up, excited with the rare opportunity of being requested to share his views with this particular co-worker.

    "Well, as senior programmers of Pied Piper, my initial thoughts were that your constant arguments were generating a massive time waste. But I grew to understand this friendly competitivity actually increase your productivity way more than traditional time management techniques. It was confirmed to me when you left Pied Piper for that short period of time. Dinesh didn't work as fast without your provocations. You see, I think of you two as gears attached to one another", he interconnected his long skeleton fingers. "One's movement also spin the other. It may seem like they're pushing, but they're actually working together to create beautiful things." Jared smiled, content. Then his eyebrows furrowed with worry. "But I'm not sure how this dynamic could be applied to a CEO-CTO scenario. You two were at the same level of hierarchy then, so it was okay to affiliate, pair up, exchange thoughts... Now, Dinesh has the upper hand."

    "I wouldn't worry about that." His beer was warming up over the counter, but Gilfoyle long left it to cross his arms in front of the chest. Tara once said he did that when he felt corned. He was sure it was bullshit. "This is not going to last long. Men like Dinesh are not build to leadership."

    "Yet you agreed to follow him."

    "Jared, I'm an agent of chaos in this world of fragile moral-based order. I'm in this for the thrill of the dive."

    "Don't you think Dinesh will succeed as CEO?"

    He couldn't help but look down and snort for a moment, raising his sight back up as shaking his head in denial.

    "I didn't think Richard was going to succeed." Jared's smile was so forceful it looked like a caricature. "And I was right. You thought he was. You were wrong." Jared flinched. Good. "Hm. I think we'll just have to wait and see."

    He grabbed the beer.

    "You see, Gilfoyle", said Jared, nervous hands opening the laptop, a fake smile on his lips. "You say that, but I don't believe you. I think you do want Dinesh to succeed."

    "Whatever makes you feel better, man."

    "And, hm..."

    Gilfoyle stopped at the door and looked back inside the kitchen. His face betrayed nothing. It made Jared feel his palms sweaty. He knows he makes people feel anxious as much as he knows Jared is a pile of anxiety.

    "I think it's best if you don't consume alcohol at work hours? It's not really appropriate and..."

    The sentence trailed off and died in a new low _oh_ when Gilfoyle put the bottle to his lips and tilted his head up, taking one long sip. The sip just kept going on and on, fast gulps making his Adam's apple go up and down. He stopped once the bottle was empty, lowered his head, and opened his mouth to a long, loud and disgusting burp.

    Jared watched him put the empty bottle over the sink and go to the fridge to take another one, all the time maintaining a disturbing eye contact.

 

 

    It was way past work hours. Stretching up on the chair, Gilfoyle lowered his arms to massage a particularly painful area between neck and shoulder. In the past few days he has been experiencing some discomfort at sundown. Maybe he should get a neck pillow. No. That would be ridiculous. He just need to get up and walk between hours spent in front of a screen.

    Gilfoyle used to get up to fetch coffee or get lunch with Dinesh, but the new CEO's activities are keeping him busy.

    He scanned the room. There was no one at the remaining workstations. Jared was in the garage doing Satan knows what, probably anything to avoid Richard, who was down the hall with the whiteboard pursuing his pointless dream. The man had some serious backbone, he would give him that. RIGBY, but leaving PiperChat at that time was just plain stupid. Gilfoyle looked at the board with the numbers. They kept going up at every second. Son of a bitch. Maybe Dinesh will pull it off and who would have imagined.

    Dinesh was out for an interview. He was out every night since he became CEO eight days ago.

    Gilfoyle reorganized his files yesterday. The days before, he worked late and wrote a maybe unreasonable amount of replies to topics in tech forums. He caught himself scrolling through Reddit at lunch. And he just finished playing Final Fantasy XIII three nights ago. It had a save point he didn't recognize until remembering he was excited to play that until Dinesh started giving him shit about FF being _pretty_ , _girly_ and _for virgins_. He must have known the last one by experience. Gilfoyle does like his videogames with fun designs to look at and a storytelling that shows minimal effort other than just programming things to blow up stuff, so what? Dinesh started tagging along with his overrated first-person shooter games sooner after and it's the only thing Gilfoyle has played for months. The other wouldn't recognize innovation if it bit him in the ass. Gilfoyle filed a couple insults for when they argued again about what game to play, and decided that it was a nice idea to play something. Now he could finally enjoy Kingdom Hearts without taking turns at paying attention to the worldbuilding and bouncing back insults.

    He tried calling Tara on Skype, but she turned it down and wrote a short reply saying she couldn't go on video right now. He stared at her profile picture for some time. She looked good. She cut herself off a group pic and an arm that wasn't Gilfoyle's, but it's covered in too much hair to belong to any of her girlfriends, wrap around her shoulders. He checked her Facebook account next (because he does have an account on that, he's not fucking Bigfoot, Dinesh just doesn't and will now know) to see that she just did a check in at some place he doesn't know. Gilfoyle clicked on the link. It was a nice restaurant. Alright, then. Sora may as well be his date.

    He was changing the cables on the big TV when Erlich walked past him.

    "Hey man", he said, not really looking up, and Erlich not really replying with anything but a growl. "Wanna do some blue caps?"

    "It's a tempting offer, but I'm afraid no can do, Gilly my friend". Gilfoyle looked over the shoulder to see Erlich searching for something over the cabinets. It must be important for him to pass on a mushroom high. He found it with a loud and excited exclamation, excitedly throwing a fist in the air, holding tight whatever it was. "I've... business to attempt", he shouted walking out of the house. Nothing shady about that.

    Gilfoyle finished setting the cables and shuffled through his Steam account. There was a hell lot of first-person shooters.

    He got up and walked down the hall.

    "Hey", he called out. Richard jumped and threw a pen in the air.

    "Oh- It's just you, haha. Hey man, what's up?" The guy looked like shit. Gilfoyle doesn't say anything, reading the dark circles around his eyes and the nervous movements of Richard's head. He was going to have a break down soon; he just almost had a heart-attack to an unexpected hey.

    "You need to calm down", he said in a too dry way for that caution moment, but it was just never as entertainment to watch Richard struggle. There's a torpidity to it. Funny thing, lately Gilfoyle realized he really doesn't care for Richard. He doesn't care for most people, but it's different with Richard. Dude comes off as a nice guy, but was willing to pull the rug under your feet without a second thought. He had done it to him and Dinesh more than once. Actually, RIGBY, fuck Richard. He was the one who left. "Want to take a break and play Call of Duty?"

    "Thanks, Gilfoyle, but I really feel like I'm onto something here and I..."

    "Pass."

    Gilfoyle turned his back to leave.

    "Missing Dinesh already?"

    And he turned back in.

    "What?"

    Richard was looking at the board, a maniac glow in his tired, but somehow alert eyes, and unconsciously chewed the fingernails of his right hand, the left one tucked underneath an armpit. He didn't know what he was talking about, he didn't know if he was awake or asleep anymore, and yet he keeps talking.

    "You know, you two spend a lot of time together. Must be boring without him, right? Now that he is, hmm, CEO and stuff. And I'm really happy for him on that, I really am. I'm rooting for you guys. But why else would you ask me to play Call of Duty with you? You never even talk to me, man. It's okay, I guess I miss a little bit of-"

    "I play with you, mean man."

    They both turned left. Jian Yang was there, holding a familiar bowl of cereal.

    Gilfoyle felt a strange urge to hug that strange little dude.

    Instead of doing that, he passed over Richard, stepped in front of Jian Yang and glared before grabbing the spoon out of his hand in the middle of a bite. He also took the bowl. "This is mine", he said and put the spoon in to take a bite himself. A string of milk went down his beard.

    He walked off and could sense both men looking at his back.

    "Are you coming?", he asked without turning around.

    Turned out Jian Yang was ridiculously good at Call of Duty.

 

 

    Dinesh's hair looked better. His diving in early 00' emo fashion morphed into something more modern, spikier. Still ridiculous, but better. Gilfoyle wondered if someone - probably Jared or maybe Monica? - , helped him with that. For ten days he hadn't put on a single stripped shirt. A brand new confident man was taking over the reins of his life and this, too, was ridiculous. Somehow, confident Dinesh managed to be cringer to watch than the usual conscious, socially ashamed Dinesh. He was embarrassing himself more than Gilfoyle could ever dream of, so he turned the saltiness down.

    Truth be told, it just wasn't as fun if he doesn't writhe.

    He didn't like confident Dinesh.

    They haven't played videogames for ten days. They also haven't gone out to buy coffee together for ten days, and that morning, when Gilfoyle entered the cafe and was told in small talk that "is being awhile" , he realized it's being ten days he doesn't go out to buy coffee by himself.

    He noticed something else: it's true they used to spend a lot of time together.

    Jared used _pair up_ to define one particular aspect of their _companionship_ – his words, not Gilfoyle's. This choice was a tough one to crack, until he remembered RIGBY. Fucking RIGBY. It trailed off to older situations in which they did paired up. It could have been nothing, but as Gilfoyle put his thoughts into it, more he could outline a pattern. It's being more frequent in the last months that he and Dinesh made professional decisions together. And was at that line of thought that he stopped, looking at the ceiling in his bedroom, and quietly cursed to no one in particular.

    He just put it like that, didn't he?

_He and Dinesh._

    And he and Dinesh, when paired up to form a united front to come out against other people, frequently used the word _we_.

    It didn't take him long to realize that somehow along the bitter days, the bicker, the coffee, videogames and insults, Gilfoyle was devoured by something called _Dinesh and Gilfoyle_.

    And what the fuck.

 

 

    Richard asked for access to the video chat data repository. Dinesh wouldn’t give it to him, the very same man who put him in the CEO chair in the first place. What a dick move. Gilfoyle watched it in the corner and felt oddly fulfilled by the whole scene for a bunch of different reasons. Some reasons were about Richard, others about himself and a personal taste for appreciating life ironies, some of them were even about the look on Jared's face, and others were about Dinesh. The fulfillment part that was about Dinesh was heavily loaded in rightfulness.

     It's being years he's telling people Dinesh was an asshole and most of them kept being fooled by that harmless aura he has going on. Gilfoyle was positive of doing a good job in the house to enlighten them about Dinesh being, indeed, as much of an asshole as Gilfoyle, but apparently they still found him harmless. Which he was not. He was unfit to cause harm, which is not the same thing as being unable. His CEO persona was the naked image of what Dinesh always wanted to be, but didn’t have the confidence to pull. It was him being able to do anything, and it was the most dangerous thing to an unfit person: power-high Dinesh. And CEO Dinesh was the father of all assholes.

     Gilfoyle thought of something to say, but was hit with the notion that there isn't a contribution that would speak louder than those last few days. He was a bit proud and a lot disgusted.

    Maybe he does like CEO Dinesh, after all.

    When everyone else left the room and only both of them stayed, Gilfoyle caught by the reflection on his monitor the moment Dinesh leaned in his direction and opened his mouth as if to say something, but fast closed it, changed his mind, turned off his screen and left. Gilfoyle followed until Dinesh vanished down the hall, and realized it made sense. The foundations of their interactions were always build upon Dinesh's insecurities, so if he was feeling good about himself enough to figure out he doesn't need to play along, it doesn't work. He still wonders what was it that he was going to say and occupy his mind with possibilities. He spends the night going through them.

    There’s no Dinesh and Gilfoyle anymore once Dinesh himself was devoured by his CEO persona.

    Gilfoyle played Kingdom Hearts and realized that was actually a very silly game.

 

 

    The champagne cork bursted into the living room and everybody looked at him. Gilfoyle could barely retain a smile.

    “I mean, I knew Dinesh was going to fuck this all up, but honestly... This couldn't get any better.”

    He served himself in a fancy glass. Dinesh, broken, turned his eyes down and writhed. That’s it, there was the conscious, pathetic little jerk full of self-hatred and regular hate he knew. It’s been awhile.

    “What’s with his shirt?”, he asked the room, not Dinesh, because this whole time the other couldn't bring himself to look up. The only gaze he was avoiding was Gilfoyle's. It felt like the universe was back on its natural curse, with Dinesh ripped out of his grown-up fantasy.

    “Oh he, hm… Sort of became ill on himself”, Jared replied in a whisper.

    Gilfoyle almost spat his champagne out. “I was wrong", he said, a smile slipping just for show. "This just got better.”

    Dinesh’s hair was the only thing that survived the disaster, still spikier and modern on top of his head, which leaned down where he belongs. Gilfoyle felt a relentless need to step on his back, but the conversation just trailed off to problems bigger than his thoughts around _Dinesh and Gilfoyle_ or his itch to prove there is no we.

    He didn't participate in the conversation, but watched and drank his celebratory champagne, and waited, waited too long, not for once giving up, that Dinesh would look at him. Dinesh didn't. Gilfoyle hoped that he would.

 

 

    People were still trying to save PiperChat inside the house. Gilfoyle sat down in one of the deck chairs by the pool. It was late, Dinesh wouldn't talk or look at him, and he knew that company's ship already sunk. He was not worried, but wondering, if the _we_ ship was also in the bottom of the sea by now. He borrowed Elrich's cleaner bong, took a nice hit and laid down, quietly sipping the champagne on a fancy glass. He hadn't paid even the first part of it and it's already over. It was just one of those life ironies that always made him smile. Not so much that time.

    He took another sip and an involuntary quirk contorted his face. Victory tasted a lot like piss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm updating on time, who would've known...  
> This chapter was sort of only half-revised, so as always I apologize for any mistakes and be free to point them out! :)  
> I almost finished all 10 chapters of this fic already and I'm looking for someone willing to read it and help me with my English grammar, so you can find me as atxnolasco in tumblr if you want?  
> Hope it was enjoyable for you. We will get straight into Dinfoyle next chapter.  
> See ya.


	4. There is a “we”

     "You know it's over, right? That's Gavin's problem now."

     Gilfoyle felt an odd déjà vu as he said those words.

      It wasn't the first time he was approaching Dinesh making a scene by the pool. The last episode, he could remember, happened way too late. This one was going to bug him way too early in the morning.

     Gilfoyle hadn't gone sleep yet, working on a module that was done, but he knew could be done better. Jared would have lectured him about time management and prioritizing if he could understand a line of Gilfoyle's work. Richard could, but he couldn't get past his pretentious life purpose of creating a new, better world with just the perfect code, so it was easy to wrap him up if you went through how much better it was working after Gilfoyle spent seven hours fixing lines that didn't need any fixing. He was, indeed, a very shitty employee if you're looking at deadlines. But damn he does good work. Or did. Nothing about this really mattered since they lost their jobs. Since Dinesh lost their jobs.

     Contratu-fucking-lations on losing a night of sleep over a dead company. But he was in need of something to occupy his mind and working always did the trick for one night.

     Gilfoyle took a sip of the drink in his glass and stopped by the second deck chair. Alcohol also did the trick of blurring unwanted thoughts and pushing them to the back of his mind. It was still dark, that grayish color that glooms over everything before the sun came up.

     He came to accept many things in the last few days and felt annoyed about most of them.

     Watching Dinesh squirm in the first deck chair to the sound of his voice, curled around a pillow, Gilfoyle took a sit too, torn between finding it amusing that Dinesh spend all night sleeping outside or pitiful that he hadn't sleep anything either.

     Dinesh remained unable to hold a gaze between the two of them. Gilfoyle knew it was because Dinesh couldn't handle the magnifying glass over his failures right now. He needed some parts of him together to play picking up the ones Gilfoyle put to the ground, and that man hadn't any part of him in place. Gilfoyle took another sip and contemplated his initial plan of waiting twelve days to go after Dinesh, so he would have that joke about his grief lasting longer than his CEO reign.

     Without a word, he got up and walked back to the house, where poured another glass in the kitchen, filled the one he was drinking, and looked over Richard's notes forgotten over the counter.

     "What are you and Dinesh going to do now?", asked Richard over breakfast. He still had that psycho twitch going on with his eye and was wearing the same clothes he had on for days.

      There it was again, the same old  _he and Dinesh_.

     "Are you guys doing interviews or...?"

     "No, we're waiting for you to start a new company that will drain the life out of us because it's fate that we keep working together until old age or group suicide, whatever comes first."

     Richard shrank between his shoulders, a tired expression in his boned face drawn in pointy ends. He scratched one eyebrow with two fingers. Gilfoyle went back to eating his cereal and reading an article about western esotericism someone from his church posted on Discord ten minutes ago. It was a shitty article. He was already preparing a reply in his mind.

     "Seriously, man. Are you guys alright? I mean, I-" He sighed. "I know you're alright, I'm just worried about Dinesh." No, he wasn't. "He didn't seem good the last time we spoke and Jared was saying he was, hm, listening to whale noises or something?"

     "AquaSonic."

    "What?"

     "What he's listening to. It's an underwater band. He listens to conceptual shit or Norwegian melodic metal when he’s upset."

     "What... I don't even want to know."

      The Norwegian melodic metal part was supposed to be a joke.

     Somewhere last year, Dinesh was feeling down because of some unsuccessful Tinder date and Gilfoyle thought it would add to his misery to replace all the songs in his  _Healing Up_ playlist on Spotify with the worst thing you could hear when you’re feeling down – which, for Gilfoyle, was melodic metal. Turns out Dinesh liked it. He caught a familiar beat from a not-that-shitty band coming out of his headphones weeks later. And a few months ago, when Gilfoyle entered Dinesh’s Spotify account again to replace all the songs in his  _Feeling Good_  playlist with grindcore (because Dinesh was being annoying about why Gilfoyle liked to hear thirty seconds long noises he wouldn’t dare call music, so it asked for a retaliation), he saw that Dinesh renamed the  _Healing Up_ full of melodic metal with  _Gilfoyle’s Recs._ It froze him for a second. He chose to focus on being outraged that anyone would think he would recommend those songs. Gilfoyle made a new playlist for him named  _ACTUAL Gilfoyle’s Recs._ He didn’t fill it with grind and trash, but entertained himself all weekend thinking about what kind of stuff he could get Dinesh into. He went with a lot of post-punk, and threw some riot grrrl in the mix because he agreed that girls invented punk rock. And nothing was hotter than a punk girl, so Dinesh would probably be interested. He did come to him a few days later to say he had a crush on Kathleen Hanna.

      “Everybody has a crush on Kathleen Hanna”, Gilfoyle replied in the occasion, stopping a smile to show with some effort. That man was so easy to read it was ridiculous. “Do you want to watch her documentary later?”

     Gilfoyle kept scrolling the article in his phone without reading it anymore and wondered if Richard actually believed he was worried about Dinesh, or if he wouldn't even notice how his fucked-up plans ruined a lot of things for a lot of people if Jared hadn't pointed it out for him. And then the guy suddenly grew a conscience. Convenient.

     "You think he's alright?"

     Gilfoyle looked up, towards Richard, and chewed a mouthful of cereal slowly than he needed before swallowing and saying:

     "How would I know that?"

     Richard's brow furrowed.

     "I don't know, I just... I guess you wouldn't, sorry. You're right. I'll go talk to him myself after I just..."

     He didn't finish that sentence, just pointed to the back door and left. Gilfoyle was sure he wasn't going to talk to Dinesh as much as he was sure that Richard was incapable of verbalizing a full sentence.

     Of course Gilfoyle knew exactly what was going on. He made his mind about waiting at least twelve days to act on it, or until Dinesh grew tired of that high-school icing bullshit. He was going to wait because it would be a good opening line, as much as he was going to wait because he didn't really want to do anything about it.

     Gilfoyle cursed later in the kitchen, where he dragged his feet to pour himself some coffee to stay awake and saw Dinesh outside from the window.

     He walked out with two glasses of champagne to face the world lighter and Dinesh staring at the pool with the pillow on his lap. He looked up when heard someone approaching, but clearly wasn't expecting Gilfoyle to come back and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, moving to face away.

     Gilfoyle offered him the other glass of the celebratory champagne. An offer of temporary truce or just something to replace a salty opening line with. A few seconds passed until Dinesh took it.

     "Dude, this tastes like piss", he said once he drank it, face contorting with repugnance.

     "Yep", was all Gilfoyle replied.

     He watched the pool and this time didn't take a sit, but walked towards the edge. Gilfoyle kicked off a shoe and moved his barefoot over the cold surface to drag out a leaf. No one ever swam in that thing. It was disgusting. He could feel Dinesh looking at his back, could almost see him opening his mouth and closing it like a fish, eager to say something and then changing his mind.

     "It's not, like..."

     Gilfoyle took another leaf between toes and smiled behind the rim of the glass. Here you go. It took Dinesh lesser time to start talking again.

      "Children, Gilfoyle", he said in an urgent, hurt, secretive tone, as if he was scared of sharing that out loud. "I put children in the hands of sexual predators because I was too worried about keeping our rates going up."

     "Isn't that what all CEOs only worry about?", he tried to dry his foot in the same jeans he was wearing and almost lost his balance. Maybe the weed he found in a drawer on his desk was a bit moldy in the end, he didn't feel right. "Our society rewards selfishness."

     Dinesh watched him dance with his shoe for a whole minute before he talked again, that same secretive rush.

     "At the cost of being accomplices to pedophiles?!"

     Gilfoyle shrugged. "Shit", he said and put the glass down, deciding for taking a sit after all. Although he was not looking at Dinesh, he knew Dinesh was still watching his every move closely, like he was expecting Gilfoyle to solve things, jump on the boat, tell him what to do, or just agree with him and do the whole stabbing Dinesh has been avoiding for days to the point where Gilfoyle was caught wondering if those moments of power were enough for Dinesh to learn how to stay away from toxic people. If that was the case, Dinesh and Gilfoyle were obliterated.

     Apparently not.

     "Yeah, that one is hard to top". Then he faced Dinesh, and Dinesh held the gaze. He seemed to be truly tormented. "Wait. Are you contemplating for the first time that you are a terrible person?"

     "I'm not a terrible person!", Dinesh snapped. "I made a mistake."

     "You are. It's your bigger, maybe only, quality."

     Dinesh suddenly jumped out of his misery pillow and put his feet to the ground, leaning forward in Gilfoyle's direction. His voice kept resonating like he was whispering a secret.

     "Just because you're a shitty person it doesn't mean everyone else wants to live by the standards of your individualist, egocentric philosophy or religion or whatever!", he was pointing a finger, accusatory, and Gilfoyle drained the piss-tasting champagne in his glass and told himself if he ever came to that point of denial in his life, he would drown in that disgusting pool. Ironic that the thing he related the most about Dinesh, and the reason he seemed to enjoyed his company, was the thing the other worked so hard to hide from everyone. It wasn't one of the life ironies he took pleasure from. Actually, it was rather annoying. "I'm a good person!", he kept going. "I care about those kids! And I care about the company! I care! I do."

     "I'm not saying you don't", Gilfoyle sighed. What he didn't care about enough was this argument. "Just not for the reasons you want to care, or you wouldn't be dragging this for so long. You're like a lizard, Dinesh. We cut your tail off and just give it time and here it goes, another tail. But you're dragging this because you're looking at yourself in the mirror and realizing: fuck, I'm a lizard."

     Dinesh was still watching him closely with big, alert eyes as Gilfoyle spoke, searching for something to take out of that experience, nodding his head along as it made sense. He blinked and shook his head once Gilfoyle finished, then squeezed his eyes.

     "Are you...", he leaned closer. "Dude, are you high right now?"

     "Yes."

     "Fuck!"

     "But I'm high most of the time, you probably wouldn't tell the difference."

     "I literally just did, didn't I? Unbelievable, here I am..."

     Dinesh forgot the drink in his hand tasted awful, took a large gulp, then remembered and spit it back into the glass. He put the glass on the floor.

     "Maybe you should have being CEO", he told Gilfoyle, voice as whispering and secretive as it has been through every other thing he said that morning. It must have been a hard fall for him to say anything like that to anyone, let alone Gilfoyle.

     "You don't mean that", Gilfoyle said and bent down to take the glass Dinesh abandoned. "And no, I shouldn't". He saw Dinesh's brows furrowed. Dinesh opened his mouth to say something, but shut it before could get it out, staring with wide eyes at Gilfoyle taking the glass to his mouth. "You want someone else to take responsibility for this. But thanks", and then he drank it.

     Dinesh seemed unsure if the whole drinking from his spit was a power move or just Gilfoyle being weird. If Gilfoyle was being honest – and he liked to think he always was, when the person he was talking to was himself – he just wanted to watch his reaction. Dinesh was easily shaken by little things like that since FutureStack. It was a fun feature to mess with, when it was mainly homophobic tendencies; suddenly growing uncomfortable of getting out of the shower shirtless, cringe over gay jokes the second he realized telling Gilfoyle to go suck a dick lost all the power if the other could actually enjoy it. Other times, it was just interesting.

     "What are we going to do now?", he asked sometime later, when the sun was shining through the top of the neighbor trees and stretching out over the water in the pool, but not yet fully awake. The soft sunshine reflection made lines on Dinesh's face, a tone of orange to it other than bright yellow. He's glowing, skin made of pure gold. Gilfoyle blamed his thoughts on how nice it looked on the moldy weed, although this was the thing that annoyed him the most about the aspects of this companionship – as Jared would have said – he accepted in the last few days.

     "We are going to do the same thing we have been doing for the past one hundred times someone fucked up, Dinesh", he said, and he purposely put a  _we_  inthere. Whatever it was, they would probably be tied together in it anyway. Another one of those life ironies Gilfoyle loved until he was being betrayed by it. "We are going to figure it out. Life doesn't stop to mop as often as you do."

     It didn't feel as strange to say it as Gilfoyle expected it to be.

     "Hey, what to go grab some coffee?", asked Dinesh.

     There was a quality tension to this dispute since the first time Dinesh arrogantly made an introductory speech about himself when he first moved into the incubator.

     Gilfoyle crossed his arms and watched the back of Dinesh's head as he made his order in the counter. Too much sugar for an adult man to consume this early in the day. He was treating himself with that expensive latte that took everything but coffee in it, because it's what he orders when he is done with beating himself up and is ready to move on. The following weeks' playlist will be 80' pop songs. If he was really up for healing, he would go for some jazz groups with Urdu names Gilfoyle can't read, let alone pronounce.

      It wouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that there was a quality tension between the two of them, but as Gilfoyle kept his eyes locked on a line of skin showing between Dinesh's shirt collar and hairline, he highlighted a part of it that rarely showed. It was a subtler tension quality, hidden underneath a thick layer of aggressively. 

      He wonders if he should go drown himself into the pool on their way back, just for the sake of keeping his record as a man of his word.

     And he was almost positive the tension he was referring to wasn't just from his part, either. Gilfoyle didn't go anywhere further than finding Dinesh's lack of contact with sexuality pathetic and too easy to mess with after the Jeong episode, but he could push through it. The dangerous part is that he can't really tell which ones are Dinesh and which ones are wishful thinking.

     "What do you want?", Dinesh turns around to ask Gilfoyle, who thinks he really shouldn't answer that with the first thing that popped into his mind.

      "Just black coffee", he said. "I'm going to take a seat."

       Dinesh nodded and leaned on the counter to wait for their orders to arrive.

     "I'm building a new router for the house."

     "What's wrong with the ones you can buy in a store?" 

    Gilfoyle turned to face Tara on the screen. She was wearing the pink robe, loose on her body as she lied down on the bed doodling something in a sketchbook. 

     "Nothing. But Dinesh is going out with a high-level hacktivist that happens to hate the living shit out of me."

     Tara laughed, then put the pen down and looked at the camera. 

     "Honey, everybody hates the living shit out of you."

     "True, but not everybody has the means to invade my private network and fuck my life really bad. And she's dating Dinesh, which means it will end in suffering, which means she will retaliate. I'm taking precautions." He was already back to cutting pieces of wire in his room's work table, the laptop on top of a pile of academical books and B-horror DVDs. 

     "How do you know that?" Her screen shook when she sat up and moved the laptop around, placing it on the nightstand in her room far too distant from where Gilfoyle needed her to be right now. The image doesn't pixelate. The video quality is exceptional. Too bad the only good thing Dinesh ever build ended like it did, but at least they could still enjoy PiperChat privately.

     "Because she will. I would." And he has, with a girlfriend in college, back when he was young and angry, but Tara doesn't have to know that.

     "No", said Tara, starting to put on some makeup and using the laptop camera as a mirror. "How do you know it's going to end badly? Maybe it will work out between the two of them."

     He instantly snorted, not even bothering to look up from the welding he was doing. 

      "You have met Dinesh, babe."

     "I don't know, he's kinda cute, right?"

     Gilfoyle missed the right spot in the circuit for less than an inch. "Fuck. Yeah, if you're into men who dress as if their mothers choose their clothes. Be right back."

     He got up to go to the living room where they stored expendable hardware. With a hand on the doorknob, Gilfoyle changed his mind and spun back in. It had nothing to do with the fact that Dinesh was in the living room. He just remembered a box he had right there and turned on his heels to go take the said box from the top of the wardrobe.  

     "I like when you get all handy, building things", said Tara, a purr in her tone. 

     "I'm a handy man, babe", he replied, stretching to grab the box. 

     "Take your shirt off, would you?"

     "It's cold in here."

     "You're no fun."

     He grabbed the box, dust spreading like a cloud around his head as soon as he pulled it down. Gilfoyle shut his eyes involuntarily, exclaiming a curse, and placed the box on the floor with a cough. He took the dusty glasses off and shook his hair with both hands, creating a new thinner cloud of dirt. That's what he gets for being cagey, a ruined brand-new circuit and some dirty clothes. Well, might as well comply now. He took off the shirt. Tara echoed a cheer that was more mocker than excitement and he flipped her off. There isn't a PCB he can use in that box, but he can dismember an old modem and make it work. 

     "Anyway, I always google you when I'm bored to see what you're up to, since you don't tell me anything, and I was reading an article about you guys that had a picture of you and Dinesh, and he had, like, way too much hair products on? And was wearing a nice suit? He looked hot."

     "I'm starting to have second thoughts about you being attracted to me." Gilfoyle took the laptop and moved it to the bed, Tara laughing again and saying something about him being too mean. He sat there and went back to work. "Also, I don't have any pictures with Dinesh."

     "I think someone just took it. You guys weren't posing or anything, just, you know, talking." 

     "Uhum."

     The weld is placed to perfection this time. They don't talk for three or five minutes, Gilfoyle busy with his new router and Tara getting ready for something she didn't share what it was, but both of them knew. When he starts turning screws, Gilfoyle looked up at the screen and she had the pink robe off, tying her hair up in a bun, all the tattoos showing in pale skin. She was wearing the nice lace bra that made a pentagram over her breasts. 

     "You look hot", he said, not looking anymore when she turned his head. "Going somewhere?", and he doesn't know why he was asking that. That's none of his business. Tara doesn’t have to answer it, she's not his or anyone's belonging. 

     "You know, just out with some friends."

     Liar. 

     "I like your hair down. They sure will too."

     He still wasn't looking, even if the screws were already in place, but knew she just rolled her eyes for that high annoyed breath that came out of the laptop. People like to lie, but they don't like to be reminded of that. Tara should know he would not tolerate being made a fool of.  When he finally looked at the screen again, she had no bra anymore, a devilish smile glowing on her pretty face in all that black makeup. He moved on the bed, almost lying down, and hoisted himself up by the elbow. Well, that would do as a reparation. 

     "Not fair you're the only one shirtless", Tara purred, that evil witch. "I have time before I go. What do you want to do?"

     "You know what...?", he looked down, to the router, and scratched his beard. Gilfoyle trailed his fingers over the hardware and didn't said  _what_  or looked at the camera for a while. "You ever took those pictures with the strap-on you talked about?"

     "Well well well...", her voice flirted with a laugh. He glared at her, not a single expression apparent. "I thought it was not your thing?" 

     "I proud myself in being sexually open-minded."

     "I know, babe. Just messing with you." She leaned towards the camera to take something out of reach and Gilfoyle got a nice close-up of her boobs. "Sure thing, I have them on my hard drive." She was back to the bed, the hard drive in hand. "I didn't show you because you didn't want to try the other day, so I figure you only like the real thing? But want me to send you an e-mail?"

     "Yep, do that."

     "Are you up for getting fucked by some hot guy or something?"

     "Hm." A wave runs his body to that and, of course, Tara picked on his positive reaction, smiling broadly in the screen. "No. Almost happened some time ago. He was more your type than mine, actually. It's being a while, so, I figured it wouldn't be as fun. Also, I was sharing the room with Dinesh in the occasion, it had to be quick."

     "Want me to put it on and roleplay with you as Dinesh?", she asked in a casual tone, opening the top drawer of her nightstand. Gilfoyle hasn't moved when she found the black strap-on and came back on camera. 

     "What gave you this idea?" 

     Tara frowned, confused, glaring at Gilfoyle's still face with those blood-red lips parted. 

     "Come on, Gilfoyle." Her laugh wasn't as attractive this time. "It's fine, we're open, you know I don't mind. Go on, fuck him, or get fucked by him. Make a movie and send a copy to me, I'm sure it will be hot. What's wrong? Is not like you to be repre-"

    "I'm not repressing anything, Tara." His tone and expression said this conversation was heading to a patch that none of them was going to enjoy, and their relationship has always been about the enjoyable parts. It was easy to avoid the rest when you could just end a call.

     "...Okay. If you say so", she sounded uncertain, but not interested enough to argue. "I really don't care what made you crave dick, sweetie, I just want to have fun with you."

     "I'm curious. How long have you noticed this?"

     "Noticed what?"

     "That I'm attracted to Dinesh". It was hard to keep a straight face saying  _that_ aloud. Weird. But also true, and he is a truthful person. It's being a work in progress to keep reminding himself of it lately.

     "Oh. I don't know. You're mostly attracted to anyone smart enough to argue with you, really", she turned for a moment, undoing the bun to try it untied. It looked good anyway. Tara was way too hot to be his girlfriend. "I think you once told me that the thing he does with his eyebrows made you want to take his pants off? I think it was the last time I was there, when you were in that mix that makes you really horny and he was all red and weird about me in the pool? I thought it was adorable. I supposed it should be creepy, right? All your roommates are always creepy and disgusting. That blonde one is the worst. Not Richard, Richard is my favorite, the one with the ugly beard? God, he's an ass. What do you think?

     He thought that he had absolutely no memory of saying those words, but it was surely true, the eyebrow thing really worked for him, so it probably happened. And her hair down looked nice.

     "Good. Go with it. You still want to have fun?" Tara smiled a big, flirtatious smile. "Put it on, babe." Maybe his voice was harsher than usual, but she didn't seem to notice and got out of bed to put on the strap-on. Gilfoyle laid down and opened his jeans, tight around his thighs and groin. Somewhere in the other room, Tara said: 

     "Get your laptop over something, I want to see you fuck your fingers for me." 

    He stopped wiggling out of the tight black jeans to do so, balancing the laptop over the router, and thinking to himself, but not going to tell her, that this one was not for her. 

 

 

    Gilfoyle opened his eyes as soon as he heard the familiar beep of a message arriving. 

    After five minutes or so trying to coach himself into putting on some clothes and get out of bed to take a shower, that's what makes him roll over. He grabs the cellphone on the nightstand and the glasses that fell from his face in the middle of the video call, putting them on to read the screen. An e-mail from Tara. He rolled on his back again, a hand behind his head, and opened the attachments.

      Those were some really nice photos. 

    He scrolled past all the files two times, pausing in some of them, zooming in others, before saving it and closing the window. He came back once noticed she also sent a link. 

 _Small Chat Company_   _acquired by_   _Hooli_ _turns out to be a lawsuit bomb._  

     They didn't even put their name in the title. However, that was probably a good thing. 

 _The young CEO of_   _PiperChat_ _, Dinesh_   _Chungai_   _(left), and his CTO, Bertram Gilfoyle (right)._  

    Dinesh was begging him to stop telling people his biggest achievement was losing his virginity last year when that photo was taken. They did look like they were having an intellectual discussion over the disastrous future of PiperChat at the sides of a dinner party they got invites to thanks to Monica, as a gesture of pure condescension. He hovered over the subtitle more than he has to a few of Tara's pictures, and looked at the picture longer than he has to any of Tara's pictures. He catches his finger on the  _save_ button and stopped.

     "Fuck", Gilfoyle cursed aloud in the empty room. There is no way he can get out of drowning in that pool now. Looking at the time, he noticed it was little past midnight. "Hm. Tomorrow."

     He took off his glasses, threw them with the cellphone over the nightstand and didn't bother to put on some clothes before getting under the covers and turning off the lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!   
> Sorry I couldn't update yesterday, hope you guys enjoyed this new chapter. I warned you it would be a slow build, but I promise things will turn in the next chapter.  
> And again, I apologize for my English if something seems off to you. Be free to point it out :)  
> See ya.


	5. You don’t pull the pretty girl’s pigtails because you like her, you do it because you’re a shitty person

      Dinesh walked into the garage in a hurry, carrying a burning determination in his every step.

      "Hey, Jared?", he said loud and incisive, forcefully pulling a confidence that wasn’t his usual posture. But he just made a huge decision and he isn't going to be deceived out of it, he's sticking to what he wants, he’s being taken seriously, he's showing him. Jared's eyes rose from the book he was reading, a question mixed with surprise over the strange visit. "I want to file an assault charge."

      Jared's blue eyes were a cartoon paint of shock.

      It wasn't that Gilfoyle hit him what bothered Dinesh the most. Although, yes, it hurt, it was unnecessary, and after so many years staring at that edge and not jumping towards the fall, he thought they would never actually do it. And it also bothered him that Gilfoyle was the one who went too far first, because Dinesh always thought it would be him the one who one day was going to come home from his long walks to calm his mind with a gun and shoot him dead. He already knew what the headlines would say.

 _Terrorist Attack in Palo Alto kills Canadian Engineer. Bertram Gilfoyle, 34, was working on a free software that would revolutionize technology. His passion will be missed. Terrorist_ ڈینش چگتائی _found dead in the same location._

      Almost all of Dinesh's fantasies about killing Gilfoyle ended with his own suicide. Others ended with him acquiring the other man's shares in Pied Piper. In some of them, Tara said he was the one she always wanted, and in others, Dinesh discovered in Gilfoyle's will reading that he left all of his most precious belongings to Dinesh, his dearest and best friend. And then Dinesh would or kill himself, not bearing to live with the guilt, or marry Tara and name their first son Bertram Chugtai.

      He decided he didn’t like the way Bertram Chugtai sounded in his mind and never thought of it again – or tried to, it has been a hard thought to keep away, for some reason.

      "Are you sure?", asked Jared, uncertain, brows furrowing.

      "Yes, I'm sure", Dinesh emphatically nodded. "What do I do?"

      What bothered him the most wasn't that Gilfoyle hit him, but why he had to do it _now_? Just when Dinesh was getting used to their daily quarrels and thought he understood where the line was drawn, that he grew numb to most of it, and that working together again was what he wanted and felt fulfilled for. Gilfoyle just had to go and ruin everything. And for what? What the fuck he kept on his phone, anyway?! The man wasn't embarrassed by anything.

      "Well, I'm not going to discourage you. You can if you want, and you have all the reasons..."

      "Jared", he raised a hand. "Looking up on google is going to be faster than asking you? Because I can do it, I just thought since, you know, it was a work-related thing, and you're technically paid to deal with this stuff, I should come to you first."

      "Oh", Jared's concerned face lighten-up. "I'm happy to put my services at your dispose." Some serious attention to his job other than mockery and the guy already forgot Dinesh is there because he wants to drag Gilfoyle to the police. God, even Jared can't be excluded from this house full of jerks anymore. "But..." Oh fuck, there's a but. Of course there's a but. "I should warn you, the process isn't that easy. Counseling between the two parts could be a better way to solve the conflict in this case."

      "What conflict? I'm not trying to solve a conflict. Gilfoyle hit me! You were there! You're my witness, right?"

      "I don't know", Jared kept frowning. "As the employer, Richard has liability for being negligent towards the kind of behavior who let to the assault, and it was indeed a work-related matter. You could move a civil lawsuit against him. And you kind of hit me, too."

      "Yes, but I apologized for it."

      "You see? That's what the counseling is for. You want an apology."

      "NO! That's..." Dinesh covered his face with  his palm and took a deep breath. "Look", he crossed his arms. "Someone has to do something about the way Gilfoyle behaves. This is not okay. He is an unstable, dangerous person."

      "I agree", said Jared. Dinesh blinked, not counting on being seconded on this. "But we are all friends here." He opened a Muppet smile that made Dinesh regret not going to google first. "Something has to be made, but it doesn't have to be a restraining order. I think your problem is quite the opposite."

      "So", Dinesh cocked an eyebrow. "You think I can get a restraining order?"

      Jared pressed his lips together and gave him the kind of look that made Dinesh feel twelve years old and disappointing his father with not having the biggest grade in the class on that biology test again. He hated talking to Jared. No, dad, second place is not acceptable.

      "That's beside the point", he said. "If you seek my advice, you should talk to him. It's clear you care about each other. We're all friends here." _You're not my friend_ , Dinesh thought, but didn't say a word. "You know how people say you don't bring a knife to a gunfight? Well, you don't bring a gun to a knife fight either, or else you may see yourself in a chaotic gunfire episode that could have been avoided if the rules of the street were respected."

      Dinesh frowned and squeezed his eyes to Jared for a moment until deciding, as he always decided, that it was not worth to ask. They were talking about his problem anyway.

      "Are you being easy on this because you're protecting Richard? Because he has liability?"

      "I would never do such a thing!", he exclaimed and leaned back, seemingly outraged by the hypothesis. "As I said, I'm not trying to discourage you, Dinesh. You have all the right to peruse this. I'm just saying you should try talking to him first. He is your friend."

      "Stop saying he is my friend. And you suggest it like it is an easy thing to do, talking to Gilfoyle", he saw himself pronounce like it was someone else's words, his voice betraying hurt. It was not supposed to come out like that, like he cared. Jared picked on it and a new look, the one his mother had in her eyes every time she Skyped him and asked if he called whoever Pakistani girl she was trying to marry him to this time, and Dinesh told her it didn't work out (although he never actually called any arranged marriage Pakistani girl, thank you very much, mom), was staring back at him in Jared's face. It gave him the creeps. And it also angered him, because it's not fair that all the people in this house could see right through him. It's supposed to be a thing only Gilfoyle could do, definitely not fucking Jared.

      "I'll still be here and we can pursue the legal arrangements if you find yourself unsatisfied with the result of the conversation. But I'm sure if someone can reach for him, it's you."

      Dinesh had no idea what he meant by that, he was surely the last person who could reach for fucking Gilfoyle. Not that anyone could. Maybe Lucifer.

      "Thanks for being not helpful at all", said Dinesh on his way out.

 

 

       “You don’t pull the pretty girl’s pigtails because you like her, you do it because you’re a shitty person!”, Richard screamed. He was screaming nonsense for the past three minutes. During the first one, Dinesh was worried he was going to get his foot stuck in another door, since Erlich didn’t even fix the first one. At this rhythm, they would get out of doors by the end of the year. But when the creative attacking session didn’t end, just became louder, Dinesh grew to be rather entertained by it. The guy just kept going on and on.

      It started with a minor disagreement about him and Gilfoyle building different parts of the same component in incompatible code language because they refused to talk to one another, which lead to Richard being pissed about their lack of professionalism. He gradually drifted for a patch of analyzing their whole relationship in screams. Even Jared seemed too impressed to interrupt. Maybe he was doing it because Jared talked to him about Dinesh's visit last night. The idea of Richard and Jared talking about him and Gilfoyle behind their backs sickened him.

       “You two are children, alright? Fuck no, I’ve met children more put together! You know when you open the paper and you see one of those articles about a guy who stabbed his wife multiple times because he loved her, and you think, _holy shit who would do something like that and think this is love_? Well, you two would! You two are the crazy husband! And I’m the fucking dead wife, right? You two are stabbing me in the back and fucking my dead corpse because you are so sick, childish and _evil_ you don't know how to have friends!”

      Dinesh opened his mouth to say he was lost in that analogy. If the point was that they were so shitty they seek for one another’s attention by hurting them, why would Richard be the wife? Wasn't it supposed to be one of them? Since the necrophilia was brought up, the murderer husband was probably going to be Gilfoyle. He closed his mouth shut because, apparently, it wasn’t over yet.

       “It’s like having two thirty-year-old tiny psychopaths running around my company and peeing over everything! Oh my God, man! I mean... God! Get your shit together! Do we have to shove you two inside the closet until you fuck of kill each other? What is it going to be? Just talk through your stuff like, I don’t know, normal freaking adults?! And do you, do you want to be Grinch?! No, the other one, what was that- Scrooge! You two are Scrooge, right? And you’ll be all old and sad and alone at Christmas and realize it’s because you’ve being assholes to the people you care about and you miss them but it’s over! It’s over! So, stop torturing all of us with your sick little game of sticking needles to see how far you can stretch one's patience before getting punched in the face! And then you do get punched in the face and it's like, you don't have the right to be surprised by that! That’s what kids do! And the bad ones, not the ones you want around. The ones you drag into a doctor’s office and they will look at pages of Rorschach’s Test and see the devil in all of them!”

       “He’s talking about you there”, Dinesh finally said. It was getting too long and uncomfortable for him to handle, and Richard wasn’t being any more articulated. Too many mixed references. Maybe he was going to puke.

      Gilfoyle glanced at him and blinked slowly a few times, coming out of a trance.

       “How do you plan to lock us in the closet if you broke the closet’s door?”, he asked Richard, not answering Dinesh’s bait, and Dinesh wondered if they were still not talking after all of that. Shit, of course they weren’t.

      Richard was looking at Gilfoyle as if he was going to jump on the guy's throat at any minute now. Dinesh really hoped that he would, but it was Richard, so he probably wouldn't. And if he did, Dinesh was sure Gilfoyle could kick Richard’s ass any day without sweating. That idea also sounded pretty sweet to him.

      Much to Dinesh's disappointing, who was still waiting for Richard to break Gilfoyle's nose, or to Gilfoyle to break Richard’s arm, Jared also sensed the building aggression and decided to step in.

      "I'll get you a glass of water", he said in a calm, resolute way, and Dinesh almost forgot he was sorry for slapping him in the face and wanted to do it again. He really didn't have anything against Jared, picking on him was just a game he resorts to direct Gilfoyle's low jokes against someone else for a change. And maybe he enjoyed being in the driver’s seat with Gilfoyle a little bit, but Dinesh wasn't admitting that part. Not after what happened. It was way out of the tolerable bar.

      When the fuck did they started being physically aggressive to each other? They should be smart men. They should be nerds, for fuck’s sake, and the last thing any nerd wants is physical aggression.

      Jared was talking to Richard, but Dinesh was staring at Gilfoyle.

      Gilfoyle had no right to be more upset than Dinesh about the whole cellphone episode, but somehow he was. Dinesh knew this time was different from the previous "I'm not ever going to talk to you again" moments because the later ones were always starred by himself putting his feet down, and Gilfoyle putting his feet to the door until he made his own entrance. It wasn't over until he said it was over. He wasn't holding any of Dinesh's gazes, so it may be over for him now.

      Richard and Jared left and Gilfoyle went to the garage.

      Dinesh breathed in, took a sip of coffee, stretched out in his chair and went back to the computer. He had a whole day of work to rewrite.

      Jian Yang passed through the living room with a hose.

      "Fuck this", he said to the empty room as he banged his hands on the table and got up.

      When Dinesh arrived in the garage, Gilfoyle was standing by Anton with some wires and a screwdriver, a pen held between his teeth. He looked over his shoulder, saw it was Dinesh, put the screwdriver down and took the pen out of his mouth.

      "I'm not rewriting mine", said Gilfoyle. "It's a favor for all of us that you go over that crap you delivered, anyway. See it as a chance to upgrade yourself."

      "I want you to apologize", declared Dinesh.

      Gilfoyle didn't move, standing there so still Dinesh almost thought someone unplugged the batteries that made him work. Then his hand holding the pieces of wire came down.

      " _What?_ ", he asked in a hiss.

      "I want you to apologize", repeated Dinesh, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "For yesterday. You hitting me. Everything."

      "If I apologize now, it will also count for when I kick you out of here?"

      "No", he answers, plain. Gilfoyle dropped the cables and crossed his arms too, fully turning to face Dinesh. "Go on."

      Gilfoyle said nothing. Dinesh realized he didn't like the silence treatment mirrored back to him. It wasn't usual for Gilfoyle to be quiet after or during a fight since he didn't care enough about anything to get upset. He usually retaliated.

       “You owe me an apology!” Dinesh snapped.

       “Please…” He snorted. “You had your back to me. I could’ve easily put you in a necktie and choked you to death, but I slapped you in the back of the head, Dinesh. It was nothing. And it was self-defense. You going against Jared, though, was just you being a dick.”

       “I immediately apologized to Jared, but for some reason, you keep acting like you’re the victim.”

       “I am”, he said, dead-plan eyes and tone. “You violated my right to privacy.”

       “Please…” Dinesh snorted too, mockery mimicking Gilfoyle’s words and posture. “So what? You didn’t want me to see your dickpics, then you assaulted me and somehow you’re the victim?

      Gilfoyle blinked. There was a brief shadow of a smile in the corner of his mouth that Dinesh didn’t like a bit. He reached into  his pocket and took out his phone. It was brand-new, but the exact same model as the one Dinesh crushed under a rock.

      “I assumed you had grown numb to dickpics after looking at them all day for weeks, but I guess I was wrong. You could have asked, though. I’m quite proud of mine.”

     “Holy shit, don’t-!” Dinesh put a hand up in a hurry, open between the two of them, his eyes wide. “Don’t send me a picture of your penis, please. Please.”

      Gilfoyle blinked, licked his lips and wordlessly went back to his phone.

     “What did you have in there that is so secret, anyway?”

      “That’s private”, he said.

     “You said your life is an open book. You said you didn’t care!”

     Gilfoyle didn’t answer that.

     “You-“

      “It’s not what I have on my phone that matters”, he said, and for a moment he sounded like a completely different person, his head moving up too fast and his tone out of place. It almost had an exclamation at the end. Dinesh fought an urge to take a step back. Even if it wasn’t a secret to anyone that Gilfoyle intimated him, he still didn’t want it to be that obvious.

     Gilfoyle sighed, noticing his short outburst too, and moved his closed eyes to the floor. He was back to his usual stoic self when he talked again.

     “It’s the principle”, he said.

       “What do you mean?” Dinesh crossed his arms again, only now realizing he instinctively shifted into an alert state when Gilfoyle raised his voice. It wasn’t clear to him if the physical part was utterly on the table now that it was out of its cage.

     He decided he was blaming Gilfoyle for the aggression in the house.

     Gilfoyle walked closer to Dinesh, his arms still crossed. Dinesh inhaled a deep breath and moved his shoulders up to reach his full height. He was still a head shorter than the other man, who stopped a few feet away and stared Dinesh with a blank in his eyes that felt like staring into a bottomless pit. Weird thing. Since Gilfoyle had huge eyes, one would expect them to be expressive, but they just went right through you. A long time ago, Dinesh stopped trying to look away from Gilfoyle’s eyes when he was this close, so he didn’t even try. It was a magnetic bottomless pit.

     “When you smashed my phone, you wanted it to be my head, didn’t you?” Dinesh’s brows furrowed. “I slapped you in the back of the head and you wanted to turn mine into a pulp. I saw the look in your eyes, Dinesh. I don’t owe you anything.”

     Dinesh sketched a laugh that came out been only air.

     “What? So you are a jerk to me for years and I’m the villain if I want to smack you with a rock?” He was still laughing, but Gilfoyle’s seriousness was starting to piss him off. “Are you serious, dude?” Gilfoyle kept his silence. He was serious. “You heard Richard!”, Dinesh snapped again, moving to press a finger against his chest. “You don’t get to be surprised when you get punched in the face if you have been pushing for it! And you know you have! You’re right, I wanted to hurt you! But you just don’t get tired of pushing my buttons, man!”

     “Like you’re a saint.”

      “I’m not saying that I am. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t mind being civil to you if you could be civil to me for a second!”

      “I was civil to you. I put my phone down.”

      Dinesh was the one who didn’t answer this time. He flashed back to the incident and realized it was true, Gilfoyle didn’t reach for being nosy on his phone until Dinesh stepped in. Also, lately their arguments have being down to an almost harmless routine of provocation, other than the visceral tug-of-war that it has been for the most part of those four years. That’s what bothered Dinesh the most, actually; not why Gilfoyle hit him, but why he did it _now_ , when they have never been so close to a friendly territory. Maybe that’s why. Dinesh took the shot when the white flag was waving.

     “Okay”, he said, finally taking that step back. ”But this doesn’t exclude all the times in the past where I was minding my own business and you were the one coming towards me with a rock”, he bounced back, because he wasn’t admitting anything to Gilfoyle that easily and he really wished for Anton to have more space so they wouldn’t have to be this close to one another.

     “I don’t look for anything to embarrass you that you don’t willingly give me.”

     “That’s bullshit!”, Dinesh laughed, screamed and whispered at the same time, a feature on his nervous voice Gilfoyle once said he found amusing.

     “No, it’s not.”

     “Yes, it is!”

      “I’m not doing this ‘yes, it is’ and ‘no it’s not’ game with you.”

     Dinesh opened and closed his mouth, on edge of saying something childish. He had nothing to say that wasn’t childish, so he opted to take his time and choose his words more carefully. This was new territory, discussing the quality tension between him and Gilfoyle. He usually didn’t even like to admit it was there, as talking about it was going to make it real.

      Dinesh was starting to feel angry again. As he opened his mouth to say _fine,_ _then,_ guess they’re not ever talking to each other again, Gilfoyle broke the silence and said: “You, on the other hand, just know how to go below the waist. The only thing you’re better at than me, Dinesh, is in how to be a shitty friend.”

      Dinesh blinked and stepped back again, a larger step, his mouth going wide open.

      “Whaaaaa…” he said, but the word ended in a low whisper.

      “You heard it”, Gilfoyle answered, arms tightly wrapped around his front, a stone looking face staring back at Dinesh. “As much as it came as a strange realization to me too, we seem to have been attracted to some sort of friendship here. I’m not bothered by it, but you clearly don’t want to be my friend. And that’s fine. I’m not thrilled by the idea either. But I don’t see the point of continuing this exchange if we have different views about where the bar is settled.”

      “I didn’t even know there was a bar with you.”

      “Normally not. I have now.”

      Dinesh supported his weight on a hand, leaning against one of the many walls of hardware that formed Anton, and scratched his forehead. He took a deep breath, staring at the floor, overcome with a loss of words. His leg vibrated. He closed his eyes and took another breath.

      “Did you…”, he looked up at Gilfoyle, who was holding his phone in a hand. “Did you just sent me a dickpic?”

     Gilfoyle didn’t answer, and although his mouth was a line, his eyes were smiling to Dinesh.

     “Bastard”, Dinesh hissed.

     “Yes”, agreed Gilfoyle. “You and me both, buddy.”

     “Jared said we should talk”, Dinesh heard himself say, and he really hated saying it the moment the words were out. He should have a bigger control over his vocabulary.

      It was Gilfoyle’s turn to look puzzled by this strange dialogue.

      “We are talking”. He put his phone back in his pocket. “We talk all the time. All you do is talk all day long, it's exhausting. You’re full of pointless opinions on superfluous topics. I have a theory about them taking the space in your brain you could use to code better.”

      “No, I mean…” Dinesh scratched his forehead again. “I mean… Discuss… _Things_ ”, he moved his hands around, between the two of them, and felt really stupid. It didn’t help that Gilfoyle was suddenly looking entertained.

       “What? Do you want to talk about your feelings with me, Dinesh?” He highlighted the right parts in that sentence to make Dinesh feel even smaller and ridiculous. God, he really hated that man. But he didn’t, really.

      “Just…” Dinesh sighed and put both hands on his waist. “Do you really think we are friends?”

     He wasn’t expecting Gilfoyle to go that still and blank to this simple question. It didn’t look like he was breathing. Dinesh almost waved a hand in front of his face, just to see if someone hasn’t taken his batteries off, but he wasn’t feeling like joking now. It was a serious question. Everyone else seemed to know the answer to it, but it was still a dilemma to both of them. Or at least to him. He had no clue, but he wanted to be.

     “Do you?”, asked Gilfoyle, the uncertainty in his voice so alien to Dinesh he flinched.

      “I asked first”, he answered.

      Gilfoyle squeezed his eyes, divided, trying to read something out of Dinesh’s face that Dinesh himself had no idea what it was so he could give it to him. He must have done a good job anyway, because Gilfoyle said:

     “Yeah.”

     Dinesh leaned in Anton, crossing his arms, and put his head against the hot machine. It was running fast and the white noise calmed his mind. He closed his eyes again and thought this wasn’t going anything like he expected it to be, and he felt weird about how it was going. He analyzed that weird feeling and decided he could live with it.

     “I can’t believe Richard and Jared were right”, sighed Dinesh, eyes opening to see that Gilfoyle had his locked on his every move the whole time. “I’m sorry… For, uh…” He hoped Gilfoyle would jump in with an attacking joke through his silence, but he didn’t. “For smashing your phone.”

     “No”, Gilfoyle said as flat as he said anything, but also demanding. Dinesh swallowed.

     “I’m sorry that I was going to go through your things without your consent and that I did it to embarrass you with stuff that is none of my business because I’m a bad person and sometimes I want you to feel as shitty as you make me feel, but I understand most of the time it’s not you making me feel shitty, just me allowing you to make me feel shitty about stuff that is just me.”

     “Warmer”, he continued and Dinesh groaned in frustration.

     “I’m sorry that I broke your trust?” As he said it, he was not sure if that was the case, because did Gilfoyle ever trusted him?

     “Okay”, he said a second later, and Dinesh learned that somehow he did. Gilfoyle opened his arms. “I’ll take it. Come.”

      “What?” Dinesh gave one more of those nervous laughs he knew only made Gilfoyle think he was a broken human being, but he couldn’t avoid it. “Dude, back off.”

     “What are you afraid of?”

      Dinesh rolled his eyes. He stared at Gilfoyle, his arms still hanging open in the air, and pulled up an eyebrow. Let him waiting instead of doing that one simple thing was starting to feel worse than actually doing it. It didn’t have to be a big deal. It was just a hug. He hugged people all the time, he kissed his cousins on the cheeks, and all the men in his family have always been openly affectionate. But not him. Affection has been a struggle for him, and especially when it was for fucking Gilfoyle.

     Dinesh sighed and took a step forward, planning on giving him two taps in the back and pulling away quickly, a one-armed stiff bro hug.

     He gave the first tap, Gilfoyle’s arms wrapped around his frame and the second tap turned into a grab. Before he knew it, he was holding him too.

     There’s a strange tension quality to Dinesh's relationship with Gilfoyle.

     It may seem obvious to anyone that there's a tension quality there, but what Dinesh was thinking about was the part that wasn't that obvious. 

     It wasn't always there, but grew to be over the years. Or at least Dinesh doesn't remember feeling it before, when Gilfoyle was just the meaner and most egocentric guy in the hostel and not someone that may be his best friend. And it wasn't only that, apparently, they were both too much of a dick to have a normal friendship, but a denser layer under all of that aggression that showed every other moon.

     Dinesh could scratch the surface of it sometimes, when he was too drunk and it was just the two of them, and when his one-armed stiff bro hug turned into a five seconds hug and counting. There was some rule about five-second hugs that he was pushing to the back of his mind as the five became ten.

     He first noticed it was there about a year ago, when they drained a bottle of vodka and had to hold on to one another to walk back to the house. They talked more inside the kitchen and he vaguely remembers Gilfoyle's hand on his waist the whole time. Dinesh didn't think much of it until it happened again months later, and then he decided he didn't want to think about it.  The memories are always clouded by a fog, so Dinesh's usual approach to that layer was to ignore it. A weird flashback of the look on Gilfoyle's face making holes into his eyes when he held that Jeong guy close to his chest and kissed him came to live in Dinesh's mind in all of those strange moments. It has been harder to ignore it since then.

     That layer felt so thick now Dinesh could barely breathe through it.

     He registered in the back of his mind that Gilfoyle was too close to his face, but the real effort he was doing was to keep looking into his eyes, so there wasn't much room for Dinesh to care about that. And he really didn't care much about that. It got weird after a moment where he realized it must have been weird since the beginning.

     Gilfoyle closed his eyes when he sighed and Dinesh felt his breath hitting him full in the face. An impatient frown took place between his brows, and when he opened his eyes again, he moved an inch away, stopped, then leaned three- no, four inches in before Dinesh pulled back. Gilfoyle stopped, dead eyes staring back right at him.

     Dinesh could listen to his heart pounding fast in his ears and there was an invisible hand holding his throat, making him unable to speak or breathe. His mouth hung open, dry. Gilfoyle, however, seemed unaffected apart from the stiffness, but again, he was always kind of stiff, like a shadow of a statue in human shape. If it wasn't the smell of his breath still fresh in his nose, Dinesh could swear the guy was a robot.

      Someone had to say something and he knew it wouldn't be Gilfoyle. The other could sit there and watch him uneasiness for hours before deciding to take action.

     "Did you..." Dinesh started and had to stop. It was so fucking surreal to wrap his mind around what just happened, or at least what he thought just happened, he thinks he may be dreaming. He doesn't want to say it, but he doesn't think he can let it be. "Did you just..." And the sentence ends again. Dinesh tried to read Gilfoyle's face and he looks slightly away. He knows Gilfoyle. He has seen him do that before. He's corned, out of his depth, but not enough to admit it. Never enough to admit it. "Did you just tried to kiss me?"

      Gilfoyle met his gaze and Dinesh felt a waterfall of emotions ran over his body and he wasn't sure if Anton was always that hot. Was Anton always that hot and the garage so small?

     "No", he simply answered, his eyelids dropping as he showed no emotion. Gilfoyle usually showed at least one, even if it is almost always disdain. It must be a hell of an effort to have an expression that plain.

     _Did anyone ever tried to kiss you, Dinesh?_

 _I would rather drink a stack of that disgusting jau ka sattu_ _shit you keep in the fridge_ _._

_Are you kidding me? Why the fuck would I do that?_

Those would all be fair answers to that question, but Gilfoyle didn't go with any of it. A simple _no_ wasn't enough, and Dinesh knows then that there's something to it holding Gilfoyle back from dragging his discomfort. Dinesh chooses not to analyze it any further. He will believe him. He will do what he has never done in his life and he will believe fucking Gilfoyle. He would take a bullet for that statement. No, Bertram Gilfoyle didn't just try to kiss him.

     "Okay", said Dinesh, his head doing a couple nods, then a lot of nods, and he had no idea if someday he would be able to stop nodding. "Okay, nice. I'm going to..."

     "Go."

      Gilfoyle's tone was demanding again and it made Dinesh stop nodding right away. He had to get out of that garage.

     Dinesh put his hands on his thighs to stabilize himself and turned around so slowly he felt ridiculous, but he also felt like he was next to a shark, and you're not supposed to do fast movements next to a shark.

     He could feel Gilfoyle's eyes into his back and it made him swallow a couple times. Dinesh couldn't bring himself not to look back before he got out the door. Gilfoyle wasn't looking at him, but staring at an invisible spot on his shoes, both arms crossed on top of his chest, something Dinesh never saw before pulling his shoulder down.

     Maybe Dinesh spent too much time standing there staring, in the curve of the corridor, because suddenly Gilfoyle was moving to take the wires back from the floor and raising his gaze to look at him. Dinesh vanished right away, cursing a _fuck!_ , and telling himself he was never getting drunk with Gilfoyle again until he realized they weren't drinking anything this time.

     He was positive he could bury that layer back down with an even thicker loading of denial.

     

 

     Dinesh was going to open the Tinder app in his phone when he was stopped by the notification of an unread text message from Gilfoyle. He almost dropped the thing on his face, but managed to close the grip on it just in time and sat up in his bed in a jump.

     He didn’t know what he was expecting, however, it wasn’t an attachment with no words carrying it. Words. He was expecting words. According to the time, the message was sent ten minutes ago, so before Dinesh exited the garage and locked himself in his room.

     Right. The fucking dickpic.

     The fact that the message was sent before that… _Episode_ that didn’t happen and it wasn’t Gilfoyle trying to reach for him for any reasons calmed his breath. Until he realized it. It was a dickpic. Sent from Gilfoyle. What the fuck.

      Dinesh looked at the icon that told him it was an image but didn’t click on it to download. Maybe it was nothing. Surely it was nothing, just some random embarrassing picture, maybe someone else’s disgusting dick with some horrible disease that would make him nauseous, washing himself with extra carefulness for months. But again, Gilfoyle has never been an easily embarrassed guy. Dinesh was amazed by how he had no problem with walking around in his underwear or just a towel if he had to – and for Gilfoyle, _had to_ was a wide field that covered laziness. When Dinesh was out of the shower in a towel, he almost runs to his bedroom, but more than once he woke up to take a glass of water in the middle of the night and found Gilfoyle in his boxers in the kitchen, eating cold leftovers and smoking weed in a bong.

     “For fuck's sake, you have housemates, go put on some clothes!”, he would say, to what Gilfoyle, usually stoned, only flipped him off. If he was sober enough, or just the right amount of high, he would lecture Dinesh about nudity being the natural state of the body and how oversexualizing it caused several self-esteem problems, such as the ones Dinesh had. Dinesh usually replied he wasn’t sexualizing Gilfoyle in his underwear, just disgusted by it.

     Gilfoyle was in a long-distance relationship. Sure he had some pictures of himself he sent to Tara from time to time. It was logical, and the first thing Dinesh thought about when he came to terms that it was helpless to avoid wondering what Gilfoyle had on his phone that was such a big secret. Dinesh had some revealing pictures as well, although he always deleted them fast after sending and used a network so encrypted Gilfoyle would have troble finding it even if he knew what he was looking for, and he didn't, so he wasn’t worried Gilfoyle would find any of those.

      But having Gilfoyle slapping him so Dinesh wouldn’t see his private pictures was one thing. Having him willingly sending him those was a whole different story.

      Dinesh locked his phone and put it down, not feeling like Tinder anymore, and laid down. Fuck Richard, he was taking the afternoon off.

     Not a minute passed until he cursed under his breath and moved around to find his phone. Dinesh unlocked the screen and clicked on the attachment. He watched the image download with his heart pounding in his ears.

     It was some impossibly long and thick and probably photoshopped porn cock.

       “Of fucking course”, he said to his own stupidity and threw the phone on the nightstand, falling hard back on the bed.

      He was almost disappointed, but not going on there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!  
> Sorry for the delay in updating this fic, this was one of the only chapters I didn't finish writing and I didn't have time to go through it last week. The good news is, almost all of the following ones are done by now. Hope you guys enjoy it, and good Season Five for all of us ~  
> Just so you won't be surprised, I already add it to the tags, but I'm also changing the rating when I post chapter six.


	6. Matching Pajamas

     It was such a strange sensation for Dinesh to feel good about himself he didn't recognize the feeling until the end of that odd day. 

     There’s just something about that Keenan guy. 

     Maybe it was the mansion, maybe it was the nice toys, maybe it was the positivity, but when they sat down to chat and eat a personal chef prepared meal, he liked to think that it was more. And he also liked to think that it was more than just the thrill of having a chef cook him surprise meals again. He did miss the golden weeks of Pied Piper, but he missed more having fun with Gilfoyle. 

     Things have been weirdly fine with Gilfoyle. Too fine. So fine it wasn’t fine at all. 

     Keenan’s tech was beautifully done and being part of it after investing years of his life into a company clearly doomed to failure bumped his self-esteem in a way he didn’t know he needed. Being around Gilfoyle and not being continually reminded of those failures, even more. 

     Keenan left them to work on their own. He said he didn’t need the secrets of their compression code, just wanted to see how it operated integrated with his VR software. And they did too, because they were arguing about work again and when you stop thinking about things being too fine, they could actually be fine for a change. There’s just something about that guy. So they worked. And it felt good, having no existing reason not feel good about working with your friend on revolutionary tech. 

     Dinesh typed his last lines of code and replayed in his mind a mantra about things being fine and not weird that he has become too familiar with the past few weeks.  

“I finished half an hour ago”, Gilfoyle talked from behind Dinesh’s chair. “Do you need me to walk you through the basics of software engineering, or you think you will be able to finish this simple routine you’re working on for three hours before the robots kill us all? You know you have to write down the code, right?” 

     “Part of your module was already done, I’m building something worthily here. You don’t rush perfection.” 

     “Either you have too low standards for perfection or you’re being rushed all the time. I’m waiting for you for an hour, so you can guess which one.” 

      “You said half an hour!”, exclaimed Dinesh, turning in his chair to see that Gilfoyle still had his back to him, scrolling through some forum on his computer. A smaller window showed his finished work. Dinesh squeezed his eyes to try to read it. Motherfucking prick. How the hell did he organize his lines that beautifully in such a short period of time?! 

      “I lied. I spent the other half reading what you’ve done and correcting it.” 

      “Did you… Did you changed my work?!” 

      “It’s hard for me to see so low standards for perfection. Mainly when they look so much like complete garbage.” 

      “Don’t-…! Oh my God, this is…” Dinesh leaned into his screen, rolling past the lines of code he has been going through for hours. “Dude, this is actually pretty good. I’m not even mad.” 

     “Of course it is.” 

     They tested the changes and it works like a charm, but of course it does, because nothing could stop their combined abilities when they're in synch. 

     It was such a strange sensation for Dinesh to feel good about Gilfoyle he didn't recognize the feeling until they were told that it was late and they should stay for the night. There’s just something about friendship. 

     The next day, they worked some more. 

     “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, guys!”, Keenan said in a cheerful way, which was the only way he knew how to say anything, really. What a rad guy. 

     “I think we can stay one more day”, replied Dinesh, lifting a questioning eyebrow to Gilfoyle, who was sitting in front of the computer behind Dinesh's chair, eating some ribs with his bare hands. 

     “Yep, we’ll stay.” 

     “Nice!” Keenan gave them fist-bumps. Dinesh never saw Gilfoyle fist-bump anyone before. “You already know where the bedrooms are, so… Make yourselves at home. Play videogames, do more coding stuff, use the pool, the kitchen… Mi casa es su casa, right? You guys are awesome. See you at breakfast. Guillermo is doing the stuff you put on the list, okay? Good night!” 

     And with that, he was gone. 

     “Do you think he will mind if we just… Like, stay here forever?”, asked Dinesh once there’s just them and the familiar sound of fingers pressing keys in the room. 

     “We could test how long we can stretch this arrangement. He seems too nice to kick us out. And it’s cold back home. I don’t want to feel cold anymore, Dinesh. Being poor sucks.” 

     “I knooow! It’s so warm in here! It’s like the floor is hugging my feet.” He turned on the chair to look at the back of Gilfoyle’s head. The other noticed the absence of an assistance typing and turned too. He looked tired, his eyelids dropping heavily and longing to come back up. They slept late last night, and now that he was thinking of it, Dinesh was quite tired himself. “Want to call it a night and start again tomorrow?” 

     “Sounds good.” 

     “The room I got last night had a console prototype I never heard of before.” They were turning the computers down, Gilfoyle taking the flannel from the back of his chair and cleaning his fingers sticky with sauce in it. Dinesh watched him from the corner of his eye. He wanted to stay in the bubble of niceness this house grew around them. He felt an urgent need to prevent it from blowing, and said: “Do you want to check it out before going to sleep?” 

     There wasn’t an instant answer. Gilfoyle stretched out and pulled his pants back up once he was done. 

     “Alright.” 

     They got lost for ten minutes in the mansion before finding the bedrooms, and used the time to argue about how long it would take Keenan to realize they never left if they just stayed there. Probably a few weeks. They should try it. 

     There was still some provocation on the table, but Dinesh didn't have to fight an ugly need to hit Gilfoyle where it hurts anymore, maybe because Gilfoyle wasn't trying to top him either. It was strange, different, like when you get a haircut and look yourself in the mirror for the first time. It could seem wrong, at first, but soon you realized you didn't need that extra hair anyway. He thought a lot about the conversation they had days ago, but not about that thing that didn't happen since it didn't happen, so there wasn't a thing to think about. 

     They found Dinesh’s room from last night, right next door to Gilfoyle’s. 

     Dinesh approached the bed with the controllers after setting the videogame. None of them was wearing shoes, so they sat there with feet on top. It was a big bed, one of those smart models that adjusted to your sleeping position. Dinesh had the sleep of his life on that thing. He saw himself counting the space between him and Gilfoyle and didn't feel as comfortable until having at least a pillow of distance between them. 

     Dinesh wasn't sure about what the end of that conversation meant, or if he saw what he thinks he saw, if he felt what he thinks he felt, but this weekend has been too good for him to ruin it with whatever it was. Let them just have this bubble of niceness, positivity and good work a little more. He would stretch that until it was blown by the exterior world and those thoughts about a thing that surely didn’t happen, but was hard not to think about, came back in and ruined everything. 

     “Son of a bitch!”, Dinesh cried out, hit by another headshot. “Not fair, man!” 

     “Get out of my way.” 

     “We are on the same team! What you’re doing doesn’t even make sen- Stop fucking killing me!” And another headshot. “Shit! Why this game even let you kill people on your team? Who made this stupid rules, anyway? You know what? I’m writing them a feedback. This is never going to the market.” 

     “I’m guessing people who don’t think you should be rewarded for being bad at videogames by team dynamics. Do you think in a real battlefield an allied bullet wouldn't blow your head off if it hit you?” 

     “I don’t think an ally would be aiming at my head, for starts”, he almost murmured, concentrated in not… “FUCKING PRICK! COME ON!” 

     He looked to the side while the screen reloaded. Gilfoyle was smirking. 

     “Let’s exchange controllers.” 

     Gilfoyle paused the game and turned his head around. “Really? Are you really pulling the bad controller excuse?” 

     “Why don’t you want to do it? Are you afraid I’m right?” 

     Gilfoyle stared at him and said nothing, waiting for Dinesh to drop it, but he knew he probably wouldn't. Dinesh could be a really petty loser. Gilfoyle kneeled on the bed and started moving. 

     “Alright, but we're changing spots too”, he said in that monotone tone of voice with which he said anything, already crawling over Dinesh to get to the other side. 

     “I’m fine with it.” He was not as fine with Gilfoyle rolling over his legs, but saying nothing, Dinesh just pulled them and slid around so he was on the right side of the bed instead of left. Gilfoyle sat back and shook his head to send the hair away from his sight and Dinesh was glad the physical contact was over. “Give me the thing.” 

     Their fingers touched when they exchanged controllers. Dinesh faced forward, directly at the TV, and held onto it for his life. He took the game off pause. 

     “MOTHERFUCKER!”, and Gilfoyle kept blowing his head off. 

     “Want to exchange again?”, he asked, a question full of mockery. 

     “Suck my dick.” 

     Dinesh was too mad about the whole match to care about anything else anymore and kept swearing and making treats for most of it. It ended for W.O., if there’s such a thing as W.O. in that game. It surely felt like it, but it wasn’t enough built for them to know for sure. The game abruptly ended and the scores came up on the screen. 

     “Well, that was a huge waste of time and effort”, he said as scrolled through the match scores. 

     “That’s a unilateral point of view. I found it effortless.” 

     “Of course you did.” He heard Gilfoyle’s snorting from his side and didn’t realize just now how much closer he was than the initial one-pillow-of-distance plan determined. Dinesh would realize it twenty seconds later, when he asked: “Want to play another one?” 

     “Yeah, sure”, answered Gilfoyle, to what Dinesh replied and empty  _cool_. He was going back to the menu to see if there was another location available when Gilfoyle talked again: “Or we could just…” 

     He turned once more to ask what was he suggesting and suddenly Gilfoyle was leaning into him and  _holy fuck_ , his hand was on Dinesh’s face and  _oh shit_. 

     “What the-?!” he screamed, immediately getting away as far as he could without falling out of bed. He pushed his chest away just when he could feel Gilfoyle’s breath on his open mouth. “Dude, what are you doing?!” 

     Gilfoyle was an image of stoicism. It almost didn’t look like he just tried to make a move on him. Dinesh could barely remember how to breathe. 

     “Apparently…”, Gilfoyle said a beat later, eyes lingering on any other thing in the room. “…misreading things. Twice.” 

     Dinesh couldn’t think of a thing to reply. The rush of anger that took over his body after the initial fear being washed away again by confusion and shame. There was a vulnerability in the way Gilfoyle talked and avoided his gaze Dinesh never saw before. It looked weird on him. Looked raw. He wanted to tell him to stop doing that. 

     “What do you mean by misreading? What the hell are you reading into here?” 

     “You invited me to your room”, he said in a matter-of-fact way, his eyes now carefully analyzing the design of the controller he was holding. 

      “Yeah, to play videogames.” 

     “Clearly.” 

      Dinesh kept staring at him, until Gilfoyle rose his gaze and Dinesh was the one quickly turning to look at anything else in the room. 

     “So”, he tried out, cautious, and slowly went back to look at him. “Twice?” 

     Gilfoyle didn't blink, one of those blank expressions on his face that Dinesh had no idea what meant, what he was thinking about, or if someone took his batteries off. 

     “Yes", he answered. “You know.” 

     Dinesh’s mouth dropped open. He started a couple sentences that never went through and at the end of the struggle, opted by saying nothing. Gilfoyle kept staring at him with those dead eyes and crossed arms. 

     “I don’t know what-“, Dinesh tried again, not looking at Gilfoyle, but at the paused screen, and failed to complete this line of thought as he failed to all the others. Then something clicked inside of him and he frowned, pulling out his most judgmental expression as he turned to the other man. "Haha. Very funny. You got me.” 

      Gilfoyle frowned. “What?” 

      “Sure you aren’t pulling this trick where you want me to believe you actually want to kiss me so you’re going to have ammunition to fuck with me for the rest of our lives, right? Go fuck yourself. No, thank you. You got something really messed up in your head to think this is a thing that would be into the tolerable bar to play with.” 

     “You think I’m joking”, he said, a pause between words, not asking, but affirming. Dinesh held his breath and looked at the paused screen before him again. A clip of several moments where Gilfoyle shot his character in the head was playing. “Shit, your problems with reality perception just reached a mental illness level. I should have seen this coming after Pakistani Denzel and you putting ‘specialist’ into your LinkedIn profile.” 

     He could feel Gilfoyle there, but couldn’t look to the side again. For some time nothing happened, the room drowning in silence, and then Dinesh felt movement over the sheets. He could see Gilfoyle flannel and pants, but was holding his line of sight still on the TV to go pass it. 

     Dinesh scratched one arm. 

     “Why?” 

     Gilfoyle sighed. 

     “Why what?” 

      “You know why what, asshole.” 

      “Yeah. But this is an idiotic question and I’m holding onto my right to remain in silence.” 

     And Dinesh remained unmoving. 

      “This isn’t a police arrest, these rules don’t really apply, you know?” 

     "Tell me something”, Gilfoyle said a moment later, when he figured Dinesh wasn’t going to do anything past the disturbing nothing he was currently doing. “How would this trick of mine even work in my favor if you don't want to kiss me?" 

     Dinesh swallowed, dry, and it made more noise than he was expecting in the quiet room now that there wasn't any virtual bullet being shot in his head. He could easily let himself fold around the idea that killing him through a screen stopped being fun for Gilfoyle at some point and he wanted to watch his suffering in person. It felt more manageable and familiar than the alternative. 

     “Let's just get this high school bullshit over with”, he said, so close Dinesh could not only see the flannel in the corner of his eye, but smell it. 

     It was not just a ghost feeling anymore, but Gilfoyle’s hand on his face again. It turned Dinesh’s head for him. 

     “Virginity has been a desirable trait through several cultures. It must be still craved in me somewhere, your sad virgin smell messing with an ancestral trace in my blood” he said, teasing even now, and too close for Dinesh to see any part of his face that wasn't covered by a beard. His breath reached Dinesh’s and bounced back. 

     “I’m not sad”, he said, and then felt the need to clarify: “Or a virgin.”  

     “That’s not what it looks like. You’re going purple. Breathe.” Dinesh didn’t notice he was holding his breath again until he let a long sigh out, his eyes fixed on Gilfoyle’s rounded teeth. “Relax, Scheherazade.” 

     “That’s racist and inaccurate, congratu-” 

     And Gilfoyle's mouth was on his, Dinesh’s sentence coming to an end into a gasp. It felt weird, new, nothing like he ever experienced before. He noticed it was the beard. It was strange to have a rough feeling against his skin other than soft tissue, and he smelled and kissed differently too. Gilfoyle smelled like... Well, Gilfoyle. Beer and soap and sweat and something dusty. They were at Keenan's for two days using the same clothes, so mostly sweat and beer. His breath wasn't nice either and when a tongue slid into his mouth, it tasted like someone who could use a toothbrush. But his hair was soft, and Dinesh didn’t even notice he had his hand up to touch it until thinking about how this part felt exactly like kissing a woman. All the rest didn't. The rest just felt like kissing Gilfoyle; the glasses pressed against this cheek, the cold ring on the hand caressing his neck, the fucking flannel he was holding. And it freaked the shit out of him, enough that he couldn't really kiss back. Gilfoyle’s tongue rolled around his and Dinesh just let him, frozen, like he never kissed someone before in his life and didn’t know how, corroborating to the whole virgin theory. Gilfoyle sucked his top lip and it was when he could feel the beard the most; it tickled his nose and a bit got inside his mouth. Tasted salty. Gilfoyle bit him, a soft and uncertain bite, as if he was asking if Dinesh was there and cared to join. 

     “Should I stop?”, he asked inside Dinesh’s open mouth, their lips touching at every word, and Dinesh just had to get away from that. “Wow. Alright. That bad?” 

     “No, is not that”, was his fast answer, his brain working too fast and too slow to analyze that apparently being kissed by Gilfoyle wasn’t a good enough reason to stop. Gilfoyle shook his shoulders in a questionable way. Dinesh straightened himself up on the bed and rolled around his head an easy way to get it out. “Well, is just… We’re here for some time. Did you, hm… Did you even use the shower? You’re smelling like a hobo. It’s hard to..."  _Kiss you like this,_ what was he was going to say, but then he would be admitting he just kissed Gilfoyle in the mouth and he really couldn't do that. Dinesh was sure he would do amazingly in the whole 2 + 2 = 5 Big Brother propaganda. Maybe he does have a problem with reality perception. 

     Gilfoyle stared without a blink for so long Dinesh thought he was going to get punched. 

     “You’ve got to be kidding me”, he finally said. 

     “I don’t know, maybe your breath always smelled like death and I never noticed because you weren't trying to suffocate me with it?” 

     Gilfoyle rested his back on the headboard and faced straightforward. Not even to the paused screen, but the empty wall. Dinesh followed his line of sight just to be sure - yep, empty wall – and back to him. Maybe he should say something. But what could he say? He was not yet settled with the idea that Gilfoyle just kissed him. In the mouth. With tongue. Gilfoyle. And maybe he should stop putting it like that because it was surely looking like he never kissed another person before. But that wasn’t another person. That was Gilfoyle. Who was getting out of the bed and walking away before Dinesh could wrap his mind around something to say that could fix the last thing he said. 

     But Gilfoyle didn’t reach for the door, entering the bathroom and slammed himself shut in there instead. The shower started running a minute later. 

     “Oh fuuuuck…”, Dinesh cursed in the empty room. Gilfoyle was taking a damn shower, wasn’t he? Does this mean they’re going to…? “No no no no no. Fuck! Fucking shit!” 

     Dinesh tried counting to ten, then gave it another shot going on twenty. The water inside the bathroom was still running whenever he finished. He always grew anxious when he thought of sex, but nothing like this. But again, he never had sex with Gilfoyle or anything like Gilfoyle. And for anything like Gilfoyle he meant a guy. And why the fuck was he thinking about sex? Maybe he was just bathing to rub it in Dinesh’s face and then he would leave, and they could pretend nothing ever happened, which was a plan that was working just fine for years until Gilfoyle decided to ruin everything. 

     Mia was right. What motherfucking prick. 

     Then he was thinking of bears, and it wasn't because he was picturing Gilfoyle's body covered in fur and any clothes on it, but because the man was going to eat him alive. Dinesh remembered a thing or another about dealing with a bear attack. He turned off the videogame and the TV. For the sake of it, he also turned off the lights. He got under the covers and shut his eyes.  _Yes_ , he thought.  _I’m going to play dead to get away from sex. That’s about right_. 

     It crossed his mind to just leave the room, but then his eyes shot wide as soon as the bathroom door opened. 

     “Where did you get these?” And there it goes his escaping-bears-by-playing-dead inspired plan. Gilfoyle was wearing blue silk pajamas. 

     “A cabinet under the sink”, he said, not a care in the world as walking towards the bed drying his hair with a hand towel, like they have done this many times before, like this wasn't the weirdest and gayest shit Dinesh was ever a part of, like they weren’t playing with the whole fundamentals of their recently discovered friendship. The bathroom’s light was the only thing illuminating the room. “There was a ton, I don’t think Keenan will mind.” 

     “Oh, cool.” 

     Gilfoyle kept drying his hair. Even from there, Dinesh could sense he smelled like vanilla. It wasn't his favorite scent, a bit too sweet for him, but it was nice. He rehearsed in his mind, as watching his vanilla flavored friend dry his hair, to say that he was tired, this was clearly a mistake, he didn't want to have a weird one-night stand or whatever it was with him and Gilfoyle should go back to his room now. A patch of skin showed when he put his arms up and Dinesh looked at it, like he has done many times in the past, and for the first time, he realized the implications behind his habit of staring at Gilfoyle's stomach whenever he stretched out. He didn’t say anything and Gilfoyle dropped the wet towel on a chair next to the bed and sat down. 

     “There, princess, I washed for your highness”, he said, lying down next to Dinesh and pulling the covers. “Better be worth it. Smell that.” 

     And suddenly he was blowing on Dinesh’s face and holy shit that does smells good. Gilfoyle was smiling like he knows it, as confident about this as he was about everything. Dinesh felt his body too heavy to move his limbs, and still thinking of bears, he didn't move when an arm went around his waist to roll him over, closer, silk pajamas nice against his skin. He was quite the opposite, unsure of everything, even if he should try to move. The protective covers rolled out of him, and Gilfoyle leaned down again. His hair was wet on Dinesh’s cheeks. 

     Dinesh kissed back, this time. And he knew that Gilfoyle rolling on top of him was probably his fault. It’s an easy misunderstanding. They were kissing, he told him to bath, Gilfoyle came back to find the lights off and Dinesh waiting for him under the covers. Just miscommunication. He held a handful of the front of Gilfoyle’s shirt and his head left the pillow, going up against Gilfoyle’s mouth, tasting the artificial mint and feeling the pressure of the glasses on his face. Gilfoyle responded pushing him back down harder, his open mouth everywhere. See? Miscommunication. 

     This one would be hard to pretend didn't happen. 

     He was too focused on the wrong things to realize it before, but Dinesh noticed without surprise that Gilfoyle was actually a great kisser. When he bit his lip again, it wasn’t to ask if Dinesh was there, but to make it clear that he was. 

     It occurred to Dinesh that he had no idea what Gilfoyle was doing here, but he had even less idea of what he was doing. His heart was beating so fast he could hear loud noises inside his head. He wandered around Gilfoyle's mind while they rolled their tongues together, because he wouldn’t allow himself to wander around his own. Gilfoyle was probably horny and Dinesh was just there, right? He probably had weird sex habits anyway, and he didn't hide his attraction towards men, so it was a fine thing for him to be pulling Dinesh’s shirt from inside his pants to run his hand through Dinesh's chest, breathing into his skin in a way that made Dinesh sigh and moves his legs uncomfortably, trying to avoid an erection that was way past being avoided. He knew Gilfoyle could hear his heartbeat going crazy too. Now, what was  _his_ excuse? 

     The kiss made a loud wet noise when Dinesh moved his head back and Gilfoyle hmmed into it. A low, deep and masculine sound. Dinesh sensed a lot of things into that noise, which were: 1- He’s definitely making out with a dude. 2- His dick is definitely responding to the weight of a body on top of him. 3- This other guy so into him is definitely Gilfoyle. 4- He can’t do this. 

     Dinesh pushed him off. 

     “What?”, Gilfoyle asked, blinking in the dark. He waited, that stoic patience Dinesh hated more than anything. He must have taken way too long to respond, because he reached the end of that endless patience and Gilfoyle talked again. “I’m wearing silk and I smell incredible, Dinesh, I can’t begin to…” 

     “I’m not gay.” 

     He could see the contours of Gilfoyle’s face in the light coming from the bathroom and the reflex on his glasses, but not what he actually looked like, so couldn’t really say why he was so quiet. 

     Gilfoyle snorted a moment later. 

     “Neither am I”, he leaned back in. His glasses fell from his face into Dinesh’s, but it didn’t stop him from attacking the other’s mouth. It was eager than before, demanding, it would be easy to let him do it and blame it on him later. Dinesh put a hand on his chest and pushed. Gilfoyle pulled away to put the glasses back on. They didn’t talk or moved for a few seconds, but it felt like a lot, and he was way too conscious about Gilfoyle's hand on his waist and their hips pressed together. “Are you being serious right now?” His tone was on edge. Dinesh said nothing. “Fuck.” 

     “I’m sorry”, was all he thought of replying, the pressure of Gilfoyle’s chest on top of his going away as he rolled out and into his back next to Dinesh. His weight dropped with a huffed bang on the soft mattress. “It’s just… I’m not.” 

     “Okay.” 

     Dinesh stared at the dark ceiling, trying to count to thirty this time. 

     “So”, Gilfoyle said a moment later. “What do you plan to do about that?” 

     Dinesh looked down, to where the sheets fell off enough to stop covering his obvious boner. He instinctively tried to hide it with both hands. Not that would matter much, once it was already seen, but he felt exposed, naked, vulnerable, a liar. 

     “Shit!”, he also tried rolling into his side. And having Gilfoyle point at it and give one of those weird spaced laughs just made him harder. What the fuck was wrong with him?! 

     “Need help?” 

     And it just got worst. 

     “Shut up.” 

     Dinesh has known for quite some time that unwanted boners are much like unwanted thoughts. You must ignore it for it to go away, and both feed on attention. Gilfoyle’s attention was making it throb. Unable to figure out how to deal with this, stepping way out of his depth into unknown territory, he gave up. Dinesh just laid there, looking up, in the same bed with the man who just a month ago he could swear fed on his suffering, and an hour ago was considering calling his friend. And now this man was putting a hand on his tight. 

     Gilfoyle wasn’t doing anything, the hand just resting there. Dinesh could hear him breathing, but truth be told, he was breathing way louder. It shifted to a faster pace when Gilfoyle’s thumb started drawing circles on his leg over the jeans. Fuck, it felt good. It felt even better when, not getting any reprehension, he moved his fingers over the fabric and rolled his hand over Dinesh’s cock. For a moment, it was like he was seeking permission, then he squeezed tight. Dinesh shut his eyes, feeling the pressure of Gilfoyle’s hand moving around his dick, coaching it to full hardness. It didn’t take long. He began to stroke up and down the length. 

     Gilfoyle moved, changing position from the stomach up to lie on his side, and hold it so hard Dinesh was sure even through the jeans he felt it pulse. He breathed in, making fists with his hands. Gilfoyle stopped what he was doing for a moment as he moved again to hoist himself up by the elbow, feeling Dinesh through the jeans and holding it tight before changing position a couple times. Dinesh opened his eyes. It felt strange. Not like a handjob at all, more like he was being measured.  _Exactly_  like he was being measured. Gilfoyle’s head was leaning towards their lower half and he was close enough for Dinesh to see he was frowning. 

      “What are you doing?”, he asked, voice high, blood running in his ears. 

      “Being mindblowed”, Gilfoyle’s head rose and they stared into one another’s faces, too dark to see eyes. “How do you manage to be this insecure when you’re carrying a weapon inside your pants? You should use this as your profile picture on Tinder, you would get way more matches.” 

      Dinesh reached forward and made a fist in front of Gilfoyle’s shirt again instead of drawing half-moons on his own palms. 

      “Do you think so?”, he still asked, since he had to say something and he didn’t know if he could get past the fact that Gilfoyle was feeling up his erection and complimenting it. 

     “Well, no. You would probably get yourself reported. But on Grindr, you would be swimming in asses. Good for you.” 

     “Fuck you.” 

      “You’re ready to come in your pants and I haven't even taken anything out yet, so I don’t think you’re lasting long enough for me to be ready to be fucked by your monstrous cock.” Gilfoyle pressed his chin to Dinesh’s shoulder. He was starting to speed up, and when he placed a kiss on his neck Dinesh almost groaned. “The intention was noted, though.” This time, Dinesh groaned. 

     “You sound like a sex phone operator”, he breathed out. 

      “Are you saying I have a sexy voice?” He stopped to reach for the fly, his tongue on Dinesh’s ear. It slides down easily. Gilfoyle did have a really nice voice. 

      “No”, Dinesh whispered. “I’m saying you’re a whore.” 

     The button had him struggling. Dinesh was getting impatient after a couple unsuccessful tries to get his pants open. He asked himself if this wasn’t a Gilfoyle trick, to make him painfully hard and needy and stop midway to play a game on his expenses. 

      “And here you are already dirty talking”, Gilfoyle replied. 

     But they’re past games, aren’t they? He just knows he needs Gilfoyle’s touch. 

      Fuck it. 

     Dinesh reached down and grabbed the hand from his waistband. He has been having unwanted boners thinking of this for years, it’s fair that Gilfoyle would deal with it for a change. It was his fault, anyway. Gilfoyle seemed willing to back away, hesitant about being pushed one more time, but Dinesh held him down and opened his own jeans, pulling the pants off enough so he could place Gilfoyle’s hand back, now over the trousers. He gave it a squeeze. Dinesh breathed in deeply. 

     “Try not to faint”, Gilfoyle said in his ear and didn’t lose time before pulling the elastic and getting his dick out, a long breath crashing on the top of Dinesh's head, like this felt good for him too. 

     Dinesh rolled on his side to give him a better angle. 

     “Fuck…”, he sighed. A thumb pressed a spot under the head and Dinesh shivered. Isn’t even been that long since someone else touched him, but it felt like no one ever did. He couldn’t keep himself from rocking against it when Gilfoyle moved faster, rolling closer, just enough for their bodies to be pressed together, still rubbing his face against Dinesh’s neck. The beard felt so weird. The light kisses are alright. He moaned into his wet hair and Gilfoyle reacted to his reaction by jerking him off harder and faster. 

     Dinesh flinched when something cold and uncomfortable touched his dick. 

     “You okay there?” 

     “Yeah, it’s just... Your ring.” 

     “Oh, fuck. Yeah, that mustn't be nice.” 

     The hand was off. Dinesh left out a sigh, missing the warm body already as Gilfoyle rolled over to take his jewelry off. He put the glasses on the nightstand, but Dinesh didn’t saw him take the ring. When he came back, Dinesh opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Gilfoyle getting on top - fully on top, this time, his knees at each side of Dinesh’s thighs. His body was heavy. The hand that didn’t have a ring on it grabbed his dick back and start going up and down slowly, fingers going way down to roll around his balls. 

     “Better?”, he asked so close their noses where touching. 

     “Mhmm.” 

     He didn’t come back to the eager rhythm settled before, but stayed on the slow strokes and tight squeezes, taking his time rubbing a finger over the tip damped with pre-cum. When Dinesh opened his eyes, he realized he was being watched. He remembered the bears again. Without Gilfoyle’s body making a barrier against the bathroom’s light, they could slightly see each other. He wanted him to stop looking at his face like that, observing and judging, making him self-conscious about what Gilfoyle was seeing, so he pushed his head off the pillow and kissed him. 

      Gilfoyle responded to be being kissed the same as he did before, kissing back harder. 

     Dinesh felt movement below his waist but didn’t want to go away from the kiss to analyze it. Gilfoyle was leaning to his side, putting all of his weight on one arm and Dinesh’s chest, who made a low whiney noise when his hand stopped rolling around his balls. He almost verbally complained. Something softer and warmer than a hand touched his dick. Dinesh looked down. 

     “What is…?” 

     He knew what it was before he could actually see it. That was Gilfoyle’s fucking dick rubbing against his, and what the fuck?! 

     Gilfoyle sensed Dinesh’s sudden stiffness and stopped what he was doing when the other pulled his hips to the other side like he just got burned. 

     He hoisted himself up with both hands on each side of Dinesh’s body and stared. 

     “Okay”, he said after a moment, way softer than Dinesh was anticipating from the reaction he just had. Gilfoyle reached down and put himself away back inside the pajama pants. “That’s fine”, he said again, maybe more to keep control than to control his nervous co-programmer. He kept hoisting himself up, not entirely touching Dinesh’s chest, but their legs still connected. Dinesh noticed he was leaning away enough so his erection wouldn’t touch Dinesh's thigh and it didn’t feel like the teasing asshole he knew at all. He was being weirdly thoughtful, considering. Is this how sex with Gilfoyle is like? Or is this just how sex between them is like? “You don’t have to touch me.” He still reached down for Dinesh, who closed his eyes and pushed towards the strokes. No one touched him since Mia was arrested. He missed that. The fact that it was Gilfoyle right there made everything more intense. He was better at this than Mia. He seemed to  _want_  him more than Mia ever did. “Let’s just deal with you”, Gilfoyle’s breath was a mix of mint and vanilla against Dinesh's face. He wondered what it would be like if it was just beer and soap and something dusty. 

     Dinesh said nothing, eyes tight shut, feeling the weight and hand and smell and Gilfoyle all over, trying not to think about how this single handjob was better than most sex he had in his life. 

     Until Gilfoyle took the hand away and Dinesh was forced to open his eyes. 

     “That’s the thing, Dinesh”, he said. “I’m fine with you not touching me. I’m a giver.” There was a deep, tired, sigh. “But if you’re going to lay still, do those noises that are on a thin place between hot and scared, and keep pushing me off, I’m going to start to feel like a molester. And as much as this may come as a surprise to you, I’m not okay with that. This is a hard turn off for me.” Gilfoyle pushed himself up all the way, leaving a gap between them. His voice sounded raw when he spoke again. “Just say it and I’ll be gone.” 

     Oh fuck. 

     "You lost the capacity to speak English, didn’t you? I'll help you. Give me a verbal go ahead and I'll make you come, but you can keep playing dead if I'm making you uncomfortable. Then I'll go away." 

      Dinesh only blinked. 

     “Okay. We are not going to talk of this again if you wish to deal with it this way. And… I’m sorry.” 

     He truly sounded apologetic. Dinesh doesn't remember hearing Gilfoyle say that word before. 

     He grabbed his arm before he could get out. Gilfoyle looked back at him, and it was too dark, but Dinesh felt a curious gaze reading him, cautious, patient. It felt like a tug-of-war and he was letting it go. It’s over. Dinesh licked his lips, still tasting Gilfoyle there, and let out a sigh before kissing him. It was just a peck on the lips and he rested his head back on the pillow. There, it’s done. He will never hear the end of it. It’s being a long journey denying this, that powerful force held inside and chained under several locks, keeping always the notion that he wanted to do that for a very long time. 

     “I said verbal.” 

     “You're an asshole.” 

     He was sure Gilfoyle was smirking. 

     “You are really making me say it, aren’t you?” Gilfoyle kept silent. “You’re enjoying this. You’re sick.” 

      “Enjoying this is the whole point.” 

      “Fuck. Alright, you… Mhum, go ahead.” 

     It’s all Gilfoyle needed to put their mouths back together, his tongue everywhere inside Dinesh’s, and go back to jerking him off hard and fast. The new sudden pace got a moan out of him he wasn’t prepared to stuff. 

     “Jesus Christ!”, he called out, unconsciously grabbing a handful of Gilfoyle’s shirt. It was really nice to touch, he couldn’t avoid caressing the tissue with his thumb. 

     “Let’s keep him out of this”, Gilfoyle said into his neck, reaching under the rugby shirt, hand traveling through Dinesh’s torso. His fingers passed through a pointing nipple and Dinesh bit his lip. “You can call for Satan instead.” 

     “You’re such a –  _fuck_  – freak.” 

     “Yeah. Was that a happy fuck, Dinesh?” 

     “Shut up.” 

     “No. Tell me.” Dinesh said nothing. Gilfoyle stopped moving his hand and pulled out of his neck, the skin there starting to feel itchy because of the beard. “Come on. You’re not going to touch me, so at least participate orally. No pun intended.” 

     “Y-yeah, asshole”, he put his own hand over Gilfoyle’s on his cock and coached it to keep moving. He complied, letting himself be guided by Dinesh. “A happy one, Christ. Quit stopping.” 

     He let go once felt Gilfoyle grip tightening again and leaned back, both hands holding his sides. 

     “Although”, Gilfoyle said a moment later. “I would really appreciate the other kind of oral participation here.” 

     Dinesh moaned, rocking forward faster. 

     “Fuck, I want to put my dick in your mouth so bad.” He probably shouldn’t be reacting to it by showing how much it turned him on, but he was close, and Dinesh is not used to have his sexual partners showing that level of interest in him, so he moaned again. “You liked that? I bet you would love to suck me off, wouldn’t you? Would you want to fuck me, too? Or do you want me to bend you over my desk and fuck you while you read the corrections I made in your code?” 

     He felt something hard on his leg, but Dinesh was way past giving a shit anymore. He moved so a knee was there instead of his thigh and Gilfoyle could ride it off at a better angle. There was a sound that wasn’t his. Dinesh opened the eyes he had shut all the way to see it was Gilfoyle, moaning too as rubbing against Dinesh’s knee. He was so hard. And he looked hot like that, skipping a breath, hips going up and down and a hand wrapped around Dinesh’s cock. 

     “Gilfoyle…!” 

     Dinesh was too close. 

     “Shit!”, and suddenly he stopped again. Dinesh made a high whiney noise he would be embarrassed by if he didn’t just have been cum-blocked. He pushed forward, trying to get some relief. Gilfoyle held him down. “Wait.” 

     “What?!” His voice was high and shameful frustrated, but he didn’t care anymore. “Oh, this is evil! This is so fucking evil, why do I even-“ 

     “As much as it makes me hot too to have you calling my name while you come to listening to my fantasies about fucking you on top of my desk”, that got Dinesh silent and still again, “I don’t think you would want to explain to Keenan why there’s cum on his pajamas.” 

     “Shit!”, Dinesh ran a hand through his face. It was difficult to care much when Gilfoyle hand was still going up and down his erection and he really needed to come. “I forgot about…”, he sighed. “About…” 

     “Yeah, I know.” He kept doing that for a while and it was too nice. “There’s something else we could do”, he said. Dinesh opened his eyes. “Do you want to come in my mouth?” 

     “What the…?” 

     “Simple question, just two options. Don’t overthink it. Yes or no?” 

     “Do you want to…?” 

     “I’m offering, so yeah. Yes or no?” 

     “Are you sure you…?” 

     “Just answer the damn question. I strongly recommend the first choice. I have been told I’m good at it.” 

     “Okay.” 

     A part of him still didn’t believe this was going to happen, but then Gilfoyle nodded, sketched an  _alright_  aloud and crawled down his torso. He pushed Dinesh’s pants down below his knees and Gilfoyle he was just  _there_ , between his tights. 

     “Hm”, he said once he was facing directly at Dinesh’s cock, and the other had no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but he felt suddenly self-conscious again. Gilfoyle looked up. “You deceived me, it didn’t grow much. But still, it's an impressive circumference.” He wrapped his hand around the base. As he leaned down, Dinesh gripped his teeth and closed his eyes. “Would you believe if I said this is the first dark and uncut cock I’m seeing in person? It’s nice. Like an exotic porn cock.” 

     Dinesh opened his eyes right away. “Oh my God, could you please turn the ironic racism down a little while you give me a blowjob? Please? Pretty please?” 

     “This is it turned down, actually. FYI, I’ve done this before, but it’s possible that I exaggerated the compliments. It was actually just a couple times, so… Is not like you’re going to notice, with only your own hand to compare it to, but to be clear.” 

     “Oh. You know don’t really have to, if you don’t wan… Fuck!” But he already did. 

     Gilfoyle’s mouth closed around his dick and sucked it off hard. He didn’t spend time licking and building up the mood, but picked up where his hand left, bobbing his head up and down fast. Dinesh could feel himself hitting the back of his throat. He made a fist around his hair and it was not supposed to be this hot to have Gilfoyle looking up at him with a cock in his mouth. Once the eye contact was made, it lingered. Almost as this, too, was a competition, he fastened up the pace as he swallowed Dinesh’s dick. He definitely felt the back of Gilfoyle’s throat and moaned, pushing forward to meet his pace. Gilfoyle pulled out. 

     “You okay?”, was Dinesh’s turn to ask. 

     “Thought for a second I was gagging”, he pushed his hair back and held it there as leaning down to run his tongue through the shaft. “Would you…?” 

     “Oh, yeah. Sure. Here.” Dinesh reached forward and hold the hair for him, awkwardly putting both of his hands behind Gilfoyle’s head and giving him space to… work. 

     Dinesh was already close, so once Gilfoyle found a comfortable rhythm and stuck to it, he could feel his orgasm building up. He tried to not rock forward too fast or hard, not to make him uncomfortable or gagging again, but when a deep spasm made him push Gilfoyle’s hair too tight and he happily groaned around his cock, Dinesh looked down and fuck, Gilfoyle was watching him back and it was impossible to keep his hips still. He held his head hard and rocked inside and out himself, stunned by the visual of fucking Gilfoyle’s mouth and pulling down his hair. He was close. Dinesh gripped his teeth, rocking faster, hearing the wet sounds of Gilfoyle’s mouth on his cock, and suddenly there was a  _finger in his ass_  and he was opening his eyes wide and letting out a long surprised moan as he came. 

      Gilfoyle goggled for a moment, maybe not so skilled to swallow it as easily as he thought, but he kept still through the aftershocks of Dinesh’s orgasm. He raised his head and took the intrusive finger away. 

     A line of come came down his mouth and didn’t leak because got stuck on his beard. Gilfoyle whipped it out with his hand. 

     The only sound in the room was Dinesh’s hash breath and heartbeat. 

     “That was…” Dinesh started and stopped, Gilfoyle crawling up to lay down beside him on the bed. He was still trying to catch his breath or calm his pulse, whatever came first. “In the end _,_ that’s… Dude, you don’t do that without warning. Holy shit.” 

     “That was my thumb”, Gilfoyle answered flatly, as if it was no big deal. He arranged his still wet hair to one side and rested his head on the other, facing Dinesh. “I was certain you were the jerk off king, but damn Dinesh, that was a ton of cum. You should rub one more often. I thought I was going to drown in there for a second.” 

     "I would put on your tombstone that you died doing what you loved." 

     "Yeah, even sucking your cock is better than read one more line of code you wrote, so I decided to impale myself in it to end my suffering." 

     "There are worst ways to go." 

     The room felt quiet for a while. 

     Dinesh felt this crushing need to keep talking and shut off his mind with the familiar ground of bicker and bouncing back of stupid provocations, but not for the first time in a wrestling with Gilfoyle, he found himself in the dark with no idea what to say. 

     The worst thing that could happen was that silence, so he said: 

     "I have no idea what to do with this." 

     Gilfoyle didn't have a fast and sharp answer ready this time. 

     "I know", he said. 

     Dinesh rolled his head to the side and watched the contour of his face against the dim light coming from the bathroom. 

     "Yeah?" 

     "Hm, no. I'm just acknowledging that you don't know, I'm not saying that I know." 

     "Oh. Okay." The silence was back. "I just thought of another way I could've said you smelled bad", he said to cut the silence, and Dinesh had no idea why he thought this was better than silence and maybe that's why women didn't want to sleep with him and it never happened more than once with the same person. "Your breath smells like death because you're dead inside." 

     "Now my breath just smells like dick. Yours, precisely" Gilfoyle's snort echoed in the quiet that settled after that. "I'm going to jerk off in the bathroom now." 

     "Hm, okay?" 

     Gilfoyle got up. 

     Dinesh wondered if he was expected to do it for him, but he wasn't invited and he didn't know if he was able to even he was. So he stared at the bathroom door closing and didn't try to pretend he wasn't picturing Gilfoyle rubbing his own dick in there and thinking about what they just did. He tried to coach himself into getting up and knocking, rehearsed a few things he could say, but any of the pickup lines he threw at women sounded appropriate for the occasion. 

      In the end, he didn’t go. 

     He stared at the ceiling instead of the door and thought about all the bisexual porn he watched in his life and how he used to tell himself it was okay if there was a girl in it. But there wasn't a girl now and his dick still got rock hard and he still wanted to just kiss Gilfoyle again. Dinesh has been watching more bisexual porn since he met that man than he has in his teenage years. This alone could have tipped him off about something being out of place, but as Gilfoyle told him multiple times in the past, Dinesh was indeed a pro in telling lies about himself. 

     He pulled his underwear and pants back up and covered himself with all the blankets, turning away from the bathroom door and tried to push back down too much stuff he didn't want to be left in the silence of the room to think about until he was thinking about it. Some of them were new, but many were old and too familiar, that bitter taste of guilt on his mouth.

     Classic fucking Gilfoyle to take what he wants and let him to pick up the pieces of himself from the ground. 

     The bathroom door opened, a flash of light in the dark room. Dinesh held still and closed his eyes. He heard steps coming closer and tried not to think about how nice and warm that fucker was. 

     "Dinesh?", Gilfoyle called him, almost a whisper, and he sounded so nice it would have been too easy to just let him in. "Did you fell asleep?" 

     Dinesh didn't talk and didn't move. 

     He heard movement, feet pacing around, the sound of something on the nightstand - he was taking the glasses. Some weight was pressed over the bed and, for a moment, he thought Gilfoyle was climbing in. But he just sat there for a minute, then five minutes, then ten. Dinesh didn't move. Suddenly there was movement again and the weight on the bed was gone. The bathroom light was turned off and a door opened and closed. Dinesh waited five more minutes before turning around to be sure he was gone. 

     Gilfoyle was nowhere to be seen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Uncomfortable and Weirdly Hot it the title of Dinfoyle sex tape, so it didn't really clicked right until the one hundred stops to just being assholes lol  
> The next chapters will be this length of bigger since the first five were more of an introduction to where they were with their relationship and the whole ~ we are friends after all and I don't hate that guy ~ coming together. Now it's more of what it could be.  
> Funny random thing about Season 5: I spent the late 4 season hating on Dinesh so fucking much. I mean, Dinfoyle is the shit, Gilfoyle is amazing I would go have a beer with him anytime, but oh my god Dinesh is an awful, annoying, selfish person. Fun to write about, but SO SO HUMAN GARBAGE. But then I watched Big Sick and too many Kumail Nanjiani standups and I'm convinced this man must be protected and I can't not love everything Dinesh does. Thank you very much Nanjiani for being too pure for existing, I hate it.  
> Anyways, hope you liked the update and that it came together alright for five chapter of slow burn. Until next week!  
> 


	7. Too much heaven on their minds

     "Hey, Gilfoyle?" 

      Chewing his morning cereal, Gilfoyle looked up at the kitchen door. He was discussing the details of the deal between Keenan and Pied Piper with Jared over breakfast. Richard left early, as he always did these days. His beanie, the same as he wore last night when they celebrated in the backyard, still smelled champagne. 

     "Hm?", he questioned under a mouthful. Dinesh was trying to look casual leaning against the doorframe, a hand on his waist, but only managed to be painfully awkward to watch. He shifted the weight in his feet a couple times and swallowed. 

     Gilfoyle would rather have this bullshit situation happening to someone else for multiple reasons, but right now it was because if it was someone else making Dinesh that anxious and out of place, he would be teasing the living shit out of him. He knew he still could do that, but Dinesh didn't gave him the chance of saying more than a few words to him without collapsing, and the last thing both of them wanted was the other guys noticing the tension. Gilfoyle was the one in charge of being the adult and hold it down, because if it was up to Dinesh, even Erlich would have noticed - and Erlich was missing for days. 

     He hated having to be the adult. 

     Gilfoyle blinked, not asking again. Jared was starting to frown to Dinesh's silence. 

     "Tara is outside", he said. 

     Gilfoyle put his bowl down and crossed his arms. 

      "Outside?" Detaching his back to the counter, he took a step forward. "It's so cold I'm starting to feel I'm back in Canada, and you got the door, but made the decision of leaving my girlfriend standing outside." 

     Dinesh opened and closed his mouth, then opened again. 

     "Leave it." He walked past him, intentionally making their shoulders touch. Gilfoyle heard Jared's voice and the word  _Richard_  been said while he went to the front door, so at least Dinesh would have a good out for not having to explain his weirdness. 

      That guy was so broken it wasn't even funny. 

      Tara screamed excitedly when Gilfoyle opened the door. 

      "Hey, babe." He held her as she threw herself into his chest. Tara snuggled into his neck for a moment and pulled away for a kiss. 

     "Missed you", she said, getting on her tiptoes to place another quick kiss on his lips. "Did you gain weight? You feel chubbier." 

     "That's the first thing you are going to say to me? Not 'congratulations for succeeding in becoming a damn millionaire'?" 

      "I put a 'missed you' first, so." 

       She smiled widely, her hands still on his waist, and did that uncomfortable thing she always did when they met after a long time, slowly studying his face as if she had forgotten what he looked like. They Skyped almost every day, so not that. 

     "You look freaking cute in this hat, but why are so wrapped inside the house?" 

     Gilfoyle smirked. 

     "Long story. It's not going to get any warmer in here, but sorry for Dinesh being a dick and shutting the door in your face. It's just that... Well, he's a dick. That's actually the whole thing." 

     "Oh, it's fine. It's fine, really." She said the last part to something past Gilfoyle's shoulders. He turned around, still holding Tara in his arms, to see that Dinesh was sitting at his workstation with his headphones on, doing an awful job pretending he wasn't watching what they were doing. The headphones weren't even plugged in anything. 

     Gilfoyle invited her in and closed the door. 

      "Where is the bathroom again?" 

     "Down there. Right, not left, you don't want to end up in Jian Yang's cave trust me. I'll take your shit to my room." 

      "Okay." 

     She gave him another tight hug before turning around with a smile on her face. Tara waved to Dinesh on her way to the bathroom, who waved back, and Gilfoyle squeezed his eyes wondering if he thought that thing in his mouth looked like a smile at all. Creepy. 

     Gilfoyle leaned down to take Tara's bag. 

     "She got in the first plane, hm?" 

     He stopped, holding the bag, asking himself if he should take the bait. 

     Dinesh hasn't talked to him while they were all alone since Keenan. Gilfoyle tried to say something the morning following his questionable decision of giving Dinesh a handjob, but Keenan didn't leave their heels, then Richard and Jared showed up, then they had important and more urgent shit to discuss, and it just became awkward that they didn't say anything about it and default that they wouldn't. Gilfoyle tried again one time he saw Dinesh was having dinner alone in the kitchen. Dinesh was clearly avoiding him, so it seemed like a fine opportunity to put things in clean sheets, but then he broke a plate. He wasn't even holding the plate, but he still managed to break it. It looked a lot more like Dinesh just threw the plate on the floor to have an excuse to exist that invite to talk outside that Gilfoyle made. 

     Alright then, no talking. 

     "What?", Gilfoyle asked, taking the bait in the end, because at least Dinesh was saying words. 

     "Well..." He was typing. What he was typing Gilfoyle had no idea, Dinesh wasn't able to code that fast. Maybe he was just pressing the keys randomly. "We close the deal yesterday and she's already here. She lost no time, right?" 

     Now Gilfoyle was just getting angry. 

      "Do you remember when I was buying tickets to Jesus Christ Superstar and you said it made no sense that it was my choice for a date with Tara, because if she was your girlfriend, you would just take her to a motel and not leave the room for a week?" 

     Dinesh was constantly saying things like that, making it clear that he found her  _super hot_ , but that cringe reaction was new. 

     It wasn't clear if Dinesh was cringing over his lack of social skills, the irony of him hitting on Tara but ending up having sex with Gilfoyle, or the memory of them both watching the movie later that day in Dinesh's bedroom once he admitted never seen it. He said it was the crappiest thing he ever watched and his whole childhood was surrounded by Bollywood movies. 

      Either way, the reaction was exactly what Gilfoyle was looking for, because that one was just an asshole comment to make. 

     "The trip was planned months ago, she has a conference to attend." 

     "Nice timing, though", insisted Dinesh, even if that argument was already shot dead. "Just saying." 

     "You have so many things to say now, don't you?" 

      He wasn't even pretending he was typing anymore. Dinesh looked directly at him. The moment came and passed where it seemed like he was going to say something and they were just glaring at one another. 

     Gilfoyle turned around and walked to his room bringing along Tara's stuff. He was not playing that stupid game. 

 

 

 

     "That was the worst Jesus I ever saw in my life, and I already hate the movie version so much", Tara was still laughing as hard as she has in the middle of the play when the woman Jesus tripped entering What's the Buzz. 

     Gilfoyle knew the play would be a pearl of bad theater because the tickets cost ten bucks and the whole cast looked like that art teacher everyone had at some point in middle school. He only bought it because it would be bad. Gilfoyle took proud in being a master of bad date nights. Tara thought it was because he hated everything too  _couply_ , like date nights or pet names, so he had to make it ironic. Actually, he was taking his girlfriends to places they would hate since he was seventeen because it usually made the dates shorter and the make out longer. 

     "That's very misogynistic of you", he commented, eyes locked on the road. 

     Back in the theater, Tara went straight for sitting in the back, the place they usually took in dark places to do the make out Gilfoyle was always ready for even if he was a thirty years old man and not a teenager, but he pushed her to the front road instead. He said he knew Tara loved musicals and it wouldn't be him getting in the way of her appreciating fine art. 

     "Oh, it has nothing to do with Jesus being a woman. That was just so hard to watch. I mean, I never met a version of Jesus that wasn't a drama queen, but that one..." She was drying her eyes with a finger, careful not to screw the heavy make-up. "Although, I would like it better if they put a woman Judas. We are way more interesting than Jesus." 

     "Amen." 

      "A-women", Tara corrected and he instinctively snorted. He almost forgot she could be funny. "The Judas wasn't that bad." 

      "You're insane. I usually have a boner every time I listen to Heaven on their Minds, but that guy had so little chemistry with the lyrics it was like watching my parents fuck." 

     She laughed again and gave him a light punch on the arm. Gilfoyle stopped at a traffic sign. The car fell silent. More than once, Tara pointed out that she didn't like when there was silence between them when they met in person, since they did it so little through the year. They should have lots of things to talk about. The only topic Gilfoyle could think of was the play and he was already running out of comments to make.

     The sign turned green. 

     "Hey, just so you know, if you do get rich, put it on my list of demands that I'm not signing a prenup", she said playfully. Usually, Gilfoyle would reply with a demand of his own, but this time he only sketched another snort out loud and let it be. 

      When Tara said the wedding would be off if he cut his hair short, he said he would be okay with it if she split her tongue. Tara made it clear she was never taking his ugly name, and Gilfoyle demanded to take hers instead, since it would be damn confusing for everyone that suddenly Gilfoyle wasn't his name anymore. She wanted nine black cats, to what Gilfoyle agreed on if he could adopt a juvenile delinquent locked up for arson. A girl on the church Tara hated had to be her maid of honor, and Tara shot back that his best man would be Dinesh. 

     It was a meaningless little game that started with her mother repetitively asking when they would get married, since they were dating for almost five years now. Gilfoyle knew he would never marry Tara. They just put on demands that the other wouldn't agree for teasing. None of them believed in marriage, anyway. Lately, he was under the impression that his certainty about not marrying Tara was somewhere past his political views about how marriage was a demeaning possession ceremony. 

     Actually, not only an impression. He was sure. 

     Gilfoyle stopped the car on the street side.  

      "Is everything okay with the car?" She leaned forward the console, eyes wide with worry. Gilfoyle's car was a junk and it was always breaking down, one of the motives why he often gets a ride with Dinesh. "Sweetie, you have to buy a new car." 

     "No." He put an elbow on the open window. "The car is fine." 

     Tara frowned, confused, but still smiling. 

      "Why did you stop, then?" 

     "Because the house always has too many people walking around and if I do this in my room, I'm not sure you won't scream at me and I don't want the attention. Also, you don't have shit to throw or my drives to break in here." 

     He was still not facing her, but could see in the reflex that the smile was gone. 

     "What? Are you going to murder me or something?" 

     "Nothing that drastic. Just breaking up." 

     Tara's eyes widened again, expressive under that much black make-up. Gilfoyle stared down at her inside the dark car and praised himself for the outburst. He fucking hated that this bullshit situation wasn't happening to someone else, but he decided to take the high road and be adult about it for a change. Good thing he wasn't expecting the other parts of this to be adults too, because in the following ten minutes there was a lot of screaming. 

 

 

 

     Richard, Jared and Dinesh were rambling about something in the dinner table when Gilfoyle entered the house from the back door. As soon as he was seen, Dinesh shifted from his normal casual self to be there just in physical presence, going through his Indian dinner with a blank in his eyes, trying to become small inside his shoulders. 

      What a pathetic piece of shit. 

     How that man ended up having so much power over his actions wasn't even a life irony anymore, but life stabbing him in the back. At least Dinesh didn't seem to have noticed the position he was in. Thank Satan. Gilfoyle has seen power-high Dinesh before he was not eager to learn how it would look like directly towards him. 

     Richard and Jared were too entertained with their discussion to notice the way Dinesh was looking at him and Tara. 

     Gilfoyle went straight to the fridge. Tara awkwardly stood there by the door. 

     "How was the play?", Jared asked cheerfully. "I'm really fond of theater myself, you know? When I was young, my foster siblings and I used to entertain ourselves during the chimney cleaning pretending we were cast for Oliver Twist." 

     "You coming?", Gilfoyle asked Tara. She was facing Jared, relieved with being talked to as a human being, not stared at as some prize, but also confused by all the rest. Silicon Valley could be really bad to hot women - or any women, really. Her face shifted when she looked up to Gilfoyle. 

     "Are you serious?", her voice sounded scratchy. He just drank his beer. "I'm not going to share a bed with you, Gilfoyle!" 

     "Oh, that sounds... personal", Richard nervous laughed, eyes glued to the laptop screen. 

     "It's a big bed, Tara! Fuck, do whatever you want". He waved a hand, as if ready to go away, but turned back. "Do you want me to take the couch? Or do you need money for a hotel?" 

     "Fuck you." 

     "Okay. Where are you going to sleep?" 

     She looked utterly pissed and her laugh sounded maniac. 

     "You should have cared before you made me get on a fucking plane to break up with me!" 

     That got Dinesh looking up in no time. 

     "Where are you going to sleep?", Gilfoyle asked again. 

     Her eyes dug holes into his face, even more outraged by Gilfoyle's lack of an angry response, then she moved to scan the room. Richard and Jared were trying to sink into the table. Dinesh was shamelessly watching the whole scene. She stopped on him. Dinesh straightened his back and arched an eyebrow. 

     Gilfoyle snorted. 

     "Good luck with that, it will hurt you more than me", he said, beer on the way to his mouth, and left the kitchen towards his bedroom not to come back. 

 

 

 

     Someone knocked on his door again and Gilfoyle almost rolled his eyes. 

     He liked to think he was a simple man. He enjoyed his beer dark, to get to build his own hardware from scratch, grindcore, but also all sorts of punk rock, the ideas of Bakunin and comfortable clothes. He liked tattoos and he enjoyed talking about ethics, medieval fiction and innovations in technology. He liked to answer dumb people who thought they were smart on online forums and to engage in daily disputes with an annoying Pakistani dickhead who thought he was some big shit but was actually a huge loser, and who he recently came to discover he also liked the taste of. And Anton. Anton was his biggest pride. 

     It seemed like Gilfoyle hated everything, but he actually enjoyed a lot of stuff. What he didn't enjoy at all was people knocking at his door at midnight. That he truly hated. 

      He got up from his bed and begged Lucifer that it wouldn't be Dinesh again. 

      Dinesh came one hour ago to take Tara's stuff into his room. That wasn't an awkward situation at all. He said Tara insisted on not wanting to see Gilfoyle again that night, but Gilfoyle felt like there was more in Dinesh standing in front of his door. But among the things he actually enjoyed wasn't drama. Gilfoyle gave him Tara's bag and told Dinesh to save the explanations when he tried to say something else. 

      When he opened the door again, it was Tara. She was wearing Dinesh's green hoodie and had her hands on her waist. 

       "You know I specifically told you could go ahead and fuck Dinesh and I would be totally okay with it, right?" 

      Gilfoyle blinked. 

      "Now louder, for the people in the back", he said once the mild shock was over. "Inside." 

     Gilfoyle opened the door wide enough for Tara to come in and closed it, leaning in there and crossing his arms in front of his chest that way Tara once told him he did when he was corned. 

     "What did he say to you?", asked Gilfoyle. 

     "Nothing really, it just slipped. He thought you told me." 

     "Right." Made sense, but Dinesh telling Tara wasn't fully out of character if he could get something from it. Gilfoyle should have guessed this outcome. "And you're announcing it in the corridors because...?" 

     "I don't understand you." She laughed an empty laugh and crossed her arms too. "It means nothing to the arrangement we have. You can fuck Dinesh, sweetie, no hurt feelings on my part." 

     "Yeah, that's the thing." Hell, he could use a beer now. "This barely has anything to do with Dinesh. I'm not saying nothing, just very little." 

     "I don't follow." 

      "I know." Tara was looking at him like Gilfoyle was suddenly speaking in tongues. "The eighth sin." 

     "What past orthodoxies have to do with anything?" 

      "You're thinking of the seventh. The eighth is counterproductive pride." Pride is good, but not when it works against you. "Are you sure you're going to church?" 

     Tara huffed. "Spit it out, Gilfoyle. What about it?" 

     "I think it is very self-explanatory." 

     "I don't." 

      He moved his eyes around the room, looking for the words. They stopped in a book on the bedside table he should have get rid of days ago. He must have stayed there for too long, because Tara turned to see what it was. She came back to him with a frown. 

      "Are you learning Hindi or something?" 

      "Urdu", correct Gilfoyle. "I'm not very good with it." 

     "Because of him?" 

     He didn't answer that right away. It would look like he was some lame thirteen years old girl with a high school crush if he said yes, but he would be lying if he said no. 

     "There's more to it than just Dinesh", was what he went for, because it wasn't entirely truth or lie. A good middle. 

     Tara was silent for a very long time, enough to start to make him uneasy. 

     "What the eighth sin has to do with us?", she asked again. 

      "Everything." At least they weren't talking about his wiliness to learn a language that was only spoken in some parts of India, United Arab Emirates, and also happened to be the official language of Pakistan anymore. "It's about putting pride aside in order to fix things that aren't working in your favor by admitting mistakes. Our relationship has been a mistake for some time now. I was too proud to admit it. I'm admitting and doing something about it." The idea occurred to him a long time ago, in his routine readings of the Satanist Bible between quick checks on Tara's Facebook page to see what she was up to, but it didn't become final until that weekend. He found the need to clarify one more thing. "It has nothing to do with me fucking Dinesh, because I'm not fucking Dinesh. Or anyone. It's just about what I need right now." 

     "And what is it? Why are you so sure you can't get it from me?" 

     He shrugged. Tara waited for him to elaborate, but Gilfoyle didn't say anything else. 

     "So, are you dating him now?" 

      Gilfoyle couldn't help but laugh. "You're obsessing over this for someone who doesn't care, woman." 

     "I don't know, it's just..." She shrank her face, something dangerously looking a lot like disgust in there. "I can’t picture why you would want that. He's nice but so... Squared." 

      "That's unarguable. But he was raised Muslim, so..." Gilfoyle shrugged again. 

     Dinesh wasn’t particularly religious or tied to his country’s culture, so it was easy for him to forget it too, which was ridiculous, once you come to think of it, because he talks about Pakistan all the time and the accent is very thick. But a fixed image of Dinesh in his mind has clouded a lot of things about this particular housemate, an image that turned foggier over the years, shifting to what he saw Dinesh as more than what Dinesh actually was. Gilfoyle was too close to see the bigger picture, in a way he had to take a step back to truly visualize what he was dealing with. It was the same phenomenal who made him shook his shoulders once, blindfolded to why he was suddenly pulling Gilfoyle’s sleeve in the coffee shop asking for him to take the order in his place because he didn’t want to go inside where a couple big white dudes with shaved heads and overalls where currently in, or that they expend so much time together it was hard to keep telling people they hated each other, and Dinesh’s expressive eyebrows and full lips were actually kind of hot.  

      "I try to put it in perspective”, said Gilfoyle. “Once, he told me he never shook a woman's hand until he was seventeen. He's repressed as fuck. His mother still thinks she's going to arrange marriage him. And..." He didn't know if he should say that last part to Tara, so Gilfoyle hesitated. That hypothesis has been living in his mind since FutureStack, growing, becoming more powerful. It would explain a lot of things. The possibility of it being for real was what made him turn down the Code Gay joke to Dinesh's face. He figured Tara was too nice to be mean about it too. "I'm certain he's gay. Ninety percent certain." 

     "Oh", Tara uncrossed her arms, mouth hanging open. 

      They stared at one another and said nothing for a whole minute. 

     "I still think we could work this out", she said. "Me and you. I really like you." 

     "Lie." 

    Tara looked down, her fingers rolling around a lock of hair. He would like it to be true to say she was the thing he liked the most for a very long time, but that would also be a lie. Tara has always been the biggest lie he told himself over the years. Or maybe not the biggest, but the one he could deal with the least amount of drama. 

      "It comes without saying that I would appreciate if you didn't tell anyone about Dinesh, right?" Gilfoyle looked at his feet too, moving one foot over the other. Neither of them has ever been the sharing kind of person. "It's not for me. Just don't out him." 

     "Of course. I better go back now", she pointed at the door. "He must think we are fucking in here. He's sleeping on the floor, by the way." 

     "I don't care. But, well, since you bring it up..." Gilfoyle raised his head in no time. Tara squeezed her eyes at him, reading his mind. She smiled. "Farewell fuck? You up?" 

     "You're impossible", she said between laughs. "Yeah, I am." 

 

* * *

 

     The door to the roof closed shut behind Richard with a loud bang and Dinesh flinched. He cocked an eyebrow, turning around to face Gilfoyle. 

     Gilfoyle didn't seem anything affected by their new plan, and with his usual apathy crossed both arms and looked down, towards the building where HooliCon was set to happen. 

     Dinesh watched the scene as if it was happening to someone else, unable to feel terrified or even trilled anymore. Jared was the one freaking out. The click farm episode had him on edge in both ways, too excited by the idea of conspiring to do something secret and illegal for his company, but now, he was just rolling with it. This is how their lives look like. They code, they fight, they gain money, they lose a lot more money, they comity fraud and sometimes they had rampage sex dreams about one another. The last part was just about Gilfoyle. 

     "Dude, Richard has lost his mind. We're doomed", he said, itchy to fill the silence. Dinesh crossed his arms and realized he had no idea what he usually did with his hands while standing. Did he put them in his pockets? Hanging along the sides of his body? He tried several options and the less unnatural thing seemed to be to put both on the balcony. He looks up. You could barely see any stars in that the city.  

     Dinesh wasn't exactly avoiding Gilfoyle in the past days, it just didn't happen that they were left alone as often. Staring at the moon, he contemplates the idea of going after Richard, but they were told to wait there and stepping out now would only seem like he was avoiding Gilfoyle. Which he wasn't. It just happens he isn't as interested in playing videogames or going out for coffee lately. Coffee is overrated. 

     "This is the most I ever liked him. It's like watching a baby bird come out of his egg to a life of criminal activities." Gilfoyle answered. "Hope they make out soon, I'm not thrilled by the idea of spending the night on a roof." 

      He was suddenly triggered by the words  _making out_ in a way he hadn't since he was eighteen and it took him some time to realize the other hasn't meant it like that. 

     "We could use those stairs", Gilfoyle keeps talking, not noticing or choosing not to point out Dinesh weirdness that night. Probably the later, since experience taught him Gilfoyle found his discomfort the peak of comedy. 

     "Are you crazy? I'm not using the fire stairs! Let's just wait, Richard will be back soon." 

     Gilfoyle hummed and Dinesh focused on a plane that was passing over their heads, trying to shut his mind. He heard Gilfoyle's foot on the concrete and he leaned on the balcony too, right by his side. Not  _right there_ , at least five feet separated them, but  _there_ , and him being  _there_  was enough to send Dinesh on edge. 

     Nothing was unusual about how they were standing, what they were saying or what they were talking about, but as Dinesh admitted to himself he was not okay with being alone with Gilfoyle anymore, he also accepted that this was the reason why he has been avoiding his friend for the past few days. He still doesn't know what to do with this, but he doesn't trust himself not to go for something stupid. He wanted to get out of that roof as much as he wanted to get closer to him. Dinesh put it to himself in terms where Gilfoyle was the One Ring and he was Frodo, trying to resist the calling of the Dark Lord. The problem with this scenario was that Gilfoyle was also his Sam and Gollum, so ring-bearer Dinesh was trapped in all fronts. He needs to meet more people. 

     Gilfoyle was fiddling with his phone. The artificial lights gave him a pale blue color, and his eyes looked as big and bored as they always were. Dinesh watched them in a way he has been doing for a long time, but spend years trying not to, and was just able to keep it down until it got more complicated. He also let himself have a break and just think about how nice it would be to have that thick beard on his neck again. He felt a hole in his stomach once that thought crossed his mind, and fought it, but it was a lost battle. 

     It wasn't the attraction that was eating him inside. Sure, it was new and uncomfortable to come to terms that he might feel something for that man that isn't only disgust, or even only an uncanny longing for friendship. And it wasn't even shocking, either. If Dinesh was feeling honest (not a good color on him, he must say), the attraction was always there somewhere. TechCrunch was never just about the Java method.

      He has felt attraction towards men before, Abbas Jaffrey in a suit wouldn't let him lie about it, but this thing now was ridiculous. This was not only new and uncomfortable, but infuriating. He couldn't do anything about Abbas Jaffrey or the men he checks out sometimes in the street, a habit he was not proud of, but managed to accept as something irreversible once he stepped out of his teens. He sees a good-looking person, he thinks of sex. Just like that. It's okay if it's only locked inside his head. But he was being forced to do something about it now. Weirdly enough, Dinesh was never much able to stop this kind of thoughts about Gilfoyle and filed it with the long list of things about Gilfoyle that made him mad. 

     Gilfoyle let his dishes soaking in the kitchen sink for days and it attracted cockroaches. 

     Gilfoyle clogs the drain in the tub regularly. 

     Gilfoyle talks with his mouth full and it's just disgusting. 

     Gilfoyle is a better coder than he is and they both know that. 

     Gilfoyle has a dominant, shameless personality and it must be so fun to have sex with him. 

     And his voice is nice. It has a deep, manly quality to it. 

     What was making Dinesh's palms sweaty wasn't exactly the attraction – although this too - but everything else that came with the realization that he wanted it to happen again and he wasn't even supposed to let it happen the first time. He didn't want to deal with the  _everything_ _else_ implied on his longing for another man. 

     As he kept watching Gilfoyle, Dinesh's thoughts shifted to the dangerous patch where he considered maybe doing enough things to his family and to fulfill people's expectations and try to impress them with an image of success in general, that maybe it was time to do something just for himself. They always said he was a selfish person. 

     "Hey", he called. Gilfoyle put the phone down and looked up at him.  

     Dinesh took a step forward but didn't go any further.  

     The other shook his shoulders questionably and seemed to be waiting for Dinesh to elaborate on his call, but then his eyes came down to glimpse at his lips. It was just a moment before Dinesh snapped out of it, but it was there. And oh, Gilfoyle did see that. There it was, that devilish glow that lightened his whole face in a way Dinesh wasn't sure when he became that familiar with. 

     "So...", he put the phone in his pocket. "Do you think this is a good idea?" 

     "Do I think that what is a good idea?", Dinesh tried giving shoulders, nonchalant, casual, not desperate for making his nemesis or whatever Gilfoyle was to him nowadays to rub his beard on his skin again. 

    Gilfoyle stared for a second, nothing there in his facial expression, then Dinesh could swear he saw a smile forming in the corner of his mouth before he gave a large step forward and leaned in. His only reaction was to close his eyes and hold a breath, waiting for the crash of soft lips and harsh beard. When nothing came, Dinesh was absolutely sure he most definitely saw a smile in the corner of that bastard's mouth. Gilfoyle was close, but not too close. He has been this close to Dinesh's face before. It was way harder not to look at his mouth this time, so he did it.

     "Do you, hm... Do you want to...?" 

      "If this is your usual approach, I can see why it's so hard for you to get laid." 

     The second Gilfoyle blinked, Dinesh grabbed him by the front of the shit. He didn't fully understand if he was going to push him off the roof or kiss him until he was kissing him. Something just got into him, a burning urge to shut that asshole up. Their teeth banged hard and it hurt. Dinesh heard Gilfoyle's exclamation inside his mouth and swallowed it, pleased by that surprised sound for more than one reason. 

     Dinesh made his way into his mouth and grabbed a handful of clothes and hair, dragging him close. He has taken actions that were as sudden and helpless before, just not this sober, not with a dude, and it never seemed to end well for him. It's true there's a first to everything, because Gilfoyle responded positively once he caught up with what was going on. They embraced in an awkward, stiff hug, fighting over control. Dinesh squeezed Gilfoyle's waist, urging to grab lower, but too self-conscious about it, and still managed to think they must look like monkeys from outside when he moved his head and finally managed to brush his face against Gilfoyle's beard. The feeling was still new, a rough sensation on his skin, his stubble holding on to it like velcro. Gilfoyle licked his lips and Dinesh let him, reaching for touching it with his tongue too, stopping to laugh when he felt Gilfoyle feeling up his gums, more because it made his knees weak than for the funny quality of it. 

     "What the f...", his sentence was cut by Gilfoyle's mouth covering his. Gilfoyle held his head with both hands, mushing his hair and keeping him still. Only when he stopped doing it Dinesh realized he wasn't able to keep himself in place and was weirdly licking everything he could find. The kiss worked better once Gilfoyle took control of it, but was still the most uncoordinated and strange make-out session he ever participated in. And it was unbelievably hot. He stuck his teeth on a line of pale neck and Gilfoyle breathed hard. 

     "Shit, Dinesh", his voice sounded hoarse, as if he needed to gargle. Dinesh was fifteen and unable to control his hormones again. 

     He was the one breathing loudly when Gilfoyle pulled apart for just a second, supporting his forehead on the side of Dinesh's head, and placed a trail of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of his mouth to cheek. Dinesh tilted his head so he could get that feeling on his neck. Gilfoyle had to lean down to reach for it due to the height difference and it left a gap between their bodies. Dinesh whined without realizing it and pulled him back. He saw an ear and bit it, suddenly feeling like making marks all over that white skin, then heard the sound of something falling to the ground. 

     "Shit, my glasses." Gilfoyle's voice in his ear was more urgent this time. Dinesh blinked, realizing what he was doing, with his face on Gilfoyle's hair, Gilfoyle's face on his neck, grabbing that man hard in his arms, and he froze. But then Gilfoyle said: "Where the fuck is...?", and his mouth, warmth and body were off of him and he was looking for his glasses on the floor. 

     Dinesh supported himself on the balcony and watched him take the phone from his pocket and turn on the camera flash to illuminate the roof. The world was noisy and it was hard to breathe and he was highly aware of his boner and he wasn't sure if he wasn't having a panic attack. 

     He was still trying to catch his breath when Gilfoyle took his glasses off the floor. He cleaned the lenses with his shirt, a patch of skin showing for Dinesh to see, and what the hell was going on with him and Gilfoyle's stomach? It wasn't even a nice, toned one. It was just pale, hairy and slightly rounded above the jeans bar. He wanted to lay his head on that. 

     "You okay?" 

     Dinesh lifted his head. He didn't know how to answer that question, but appreciated that Gilfoyle turned the flash off and was a couple feet away. 

     "Of course I am!", was what he went with. "Why wouldn't I be okay?" 

     "Okay". He was still not getting any closer. "But if I searched for mixed up signals online right now, Hooli would give me a picture of your face." 

     "Shut up, I'm just... How the fuck are you so calm?! What are you? Are you even human?" 

     Gilfoyle sighed loudly. 

     "This is why I asked if you thought this was a good idea before you decided to make a sequel to Jaws on my neck." 

     "Oh, don't you blame me on this. You did all the... You did...", the words got stuck in his throat, but Gilfoyle didn't cut him off. Dinesh was trapped having to finish that thought. Unable to deal with words, he lifted his hand and moved it back and forth in front of Gilfoyle's face and the other seemed amused by the whole thing. Dinesh realized what he was doing was actually worse than words. He stopped and pointed a finger. "You started this!" 

     "Yes. And I was done with it, but apparently you're not." 

     "What do you mean you're done with it?", his forehead furrowed, anger building up inside of him over the nerves. "You think you can just mess with my head kissing me and being all over me and then walk away? You think this shit is funny, don't you? What the hell?" 

     "Damnit, man, that's not what I said", Gilfoyle moved a hand as if he was going to reach for him, but lowered it back before he could. He crossed his arms. There was something sheepish in his posture, a tone Dinesh never saw on Gilfoyle apart from when they were talking about this thing they had going on. He was almost familiar with it by now. "This should have been fun to both of us, but you're clearly too uncomfortable. It was never on my intentions to make you uncomfortable. Well, not about this, at least. Reciprocity is literally one of the very few rules of the philosophy I choose to live by. But I have messed with your head, and for that I apologize. I'm not making any decisions for you, but for what I've seen, you're nowhere ready to deal with this." 

     Dinesh swallowed dry, caught in a loss for words again. He crossed his arms too. It was hard to look at him, so he shifted to something else, like the next building, and stayed there. 

     "And what...", his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "I don't understand. This makes no sense. Do you, like... I don't even know. Do you like me or something? Is this some hate-sex kind of deal? Do you think I’m hot or...? Are you attracted to me?” 

      “No, when I kiss you I have to hold back not to throw up.” 

     The nervousness in Dinesh’s expression vanished in a second, that judgmental pout taking its place. 

     “You should start getting used to it, because if you’re following your list, Richard’s next and I’m positive he is going to throw up in your mouth. Repetitively. I don’t even have his reflux problem and I swallowed my vomit a little bit.” 

      Gilfoyle didn’t seem to know what Dinesh was talking about, but when he remembered he snorted and a string of playfulness pulled the corner of his mouth up. 

      “I’m actually going from the bottom up. I did Richard a few weeks ago. You still have time before I get to Jian Yang, so, what is it going to be, Dinesh?” 

      Dinesh ran a palm through his face. The pause between the hint of bicker and the following response was long enough to dissolve any playfulness from the conversation. 

      “You didn’t answer my question”, Dinesh pointed out. 

      “You made several questions.” 

       “Did you broke up with Tara because of me?” 

     There was nothing revealing in Gilfoyle’s face, but Dinesh knew him, and that light wrinkle on his forehead implied so many things he instantly took a step back just to realize he was already on the edge of the roof. Gilfoyle noticed it and the wrinkle was gone. He talked again and sounded more like himself, but he was still reluctant to answer any of Dinesh’s questions.

     "It's fine if this was a mistake and you’re not ready." 

      "Don't- Stop saying that! What do you even mean by me being ready? Ready for what?", Dinesh snapped. "It's so fucking weird, it makes me feel like this is bigger than it should be, right? And it's nothing! It's just between the two of us. It doesn't have to be a big deal. This is the twenty-first century and we live in freaking California, for fuck’s sake, I know it's fine. It’s fine! If anything, people would be making huge lines at my door and sending me tons of gift baskets to get me in their companies so they could tell everyone how cool they are for hiring the brown guy who is also…” The sentence ended abruptly, Dinesh realizing what he was going to say in his outburst and managing to stop before it got out. His eyes were huge glaring at Gilfoyle, waiting for him to tear him into pieces for what he was about to slip. Gilfoyle didn’t say a thing, so Dinesh read it as he not noticing and forced a laugh. “What wouldn't I be ready for, hm? What is it?" 

      Gilfoyle breathed in and seemed to be calculating what he would say next very carefully, which was somehow weirder than having his tongue playing around his gums. 

      "To face that you're probably gay." 

      " _What...?!_ What did you-…?!" Dinesh started laughing again, although he wasn't finding it funny. Gilfoyle probably should have thought more and come out with something less brick-to-the-head, but he was already out of patience. "Dude, I'm not gay!", he kept laughing. It was forceful and cringe like most things about Dinesh usually was. "I'm not-… I'm into women, alright? I had sex with lots of them. I love them. We were just talking about my ex ten minutes ago.” 

     “The one you put in prison because you couldn’t break up with her?” 

     “She was crazy and dangerous, it had nothing to do with my sexuality. The sex was amazing!” 

     “Mhmm, sure”, Gilfoyle pressed his lips together into a line for a moment. Dinesh wished he had thrown him off the roof before. “I’m sure either has that despite you talking about wanting to have sex with women all the time, when the opportunity is actually on the table, you usually find a way to get out of it.” 

      Dinesh immediately opened his mouth to argue back just to realize he didn’t know what to say. 

     “This isn’t true”, wasn’t his most compelling argument, but was all he could think of. 

     “The two times we make-out you instantly got a huge erection. It’s flattering, but I would know if I was that good. Three decades of sexual frustration are leaking out of your body.” 

     Dinesh’s eyes shot open so wide they could have jumped out of his skull. 

     “That doesn’t mean…!” He stopped talking. There were two ways that sentence could have ended and he wasn’t eager to say any of them. “Sure you think I’m gay. Ha-ha-ha, funny. But I’m not. Maybe I’m a little bit like you? I mean, the whole bisexual, but not calling yourself bisexual because you’re too pretentious thing?” 

     “I’m not bisexual, and neither are you. You’re just gay, Dinesh.” 

      “Stop saying I’m gay, dude! Maybe I’m not even bisexual and this is just a weird thing going on when I’m around you because you’re the most frustrating person I ever met and it’s probably making my dick confused!” 

      “Are you saying I made you gay? Because if you are, thanks, but I’m certain sexuality doesn’t work that way. Also, if I could turn straight men gay I wouldn’t be trying to become rich in tech, but I was going to be very rich in porn.” 

      Dinesh covered his face with both hands and groaned. 

      “It’s impossible to have a serious conversation with you, isn’t it?” He felt tired. And ashamed, but mostly tired. 

     Gilfoyle didn't reply for a long time. 

      “Look", he finally talked again, softer, and Dinesh wanted to beat him up when he talked this soft to him because it was like he was glimpsing at a part of Gilfoyle few people knew existed. The intimacy was too much. Dinesh didn't meet his eyes, focused at his feet in black Converses. Gilfoyle dressed like a teenager. Ridiculous. "As much as you want to make it that simple, this isn’t about me". Even his apologies came with an unwanted critique. "So, cards on the table, no kidding, you should try having an honest conversation with yourself for once. I'm not entirely sure you're capable of it, but it's worth a shot. Go figure out your thing, and then you can work on figuring out what you want to do to me.” 

     “I know what I want to do to you.” 

     Dinesh didn’t catch it coming out of his mouth until he was flushing, still looking at Gilfoyle's feet and knees. He looked up in a jump. 

     “Throw you off this balcony", he said fast. "That’s what I want to do with you, asshole.” 

      "Smooth", the other snorted, but there was a quality to his eyes shifting around. Dinesh never saw his face doing that, so it took him some time to realize he just made Bertram Gilfoyle embarrassed. “I always thought my self-control was bigger than this”, Gilfoyle said, calm, and took the glasses off his face. “But you’re, no surprise, very annoying.” He put the glasses in his pocket and closed that safety space between them, there during all the time they were talking. Dinesh couldn’t breathe right with him that close. “Tell me, Dinesh”, he said enough close to his face Dinesh could smell the beer. “What is it you want to do to me?” 

     Gilfoyle held Dinesh’s crossed arms, tightly forming a barrier between them, and uncrossed them for him. He placed each hand on his sides. 

     “Right now, I just want to make you shut the fuck up.” Gilfoyle laughed and it was warm on his cheek and ear. It almost wasn’t necessary for Dinesh to lean in to place his face in the curve of his neck and shoulder, so close he was now. He wanted to kiss it again, but he didn’t, like he would lose if he was the one who started it again. 

     "I've wanting to make you shut the fuck up for a long time too. It surprised me that you were having the same ideas about the method." 

     Dinesh was so focused on Gilfoyle’s breathing on his face and the smell of his hair tickling his nose he forgot the other was still holding his hands. The grip was loose, leaving him to caress his thumbs in circles around his waist, but it got firm suddenly. Gilfoyle made him touch his sides up and down a couple times, the shirt pulling up when Dinesh made a fist around the fabric. Still not kissing him. Gilfoyle placed his lips beneath Dinesh's ear and he shut his eyes hard, pressing his face on the side of his head. Gilfoyle moved his hands back and lower and Dinesh groaned, closing his grasp around Gilfoyle’s ass. 

     “Is the method shoving a foot in your mouth?” Well, he was already there, so he felt him up over the jeans. It was nice that they were so tight. Gilfoyle let go of his hands and wrapped his arms around Dinesh's shoulders. 

     "Not exactly a foot, no." 

     Dinesh cursed before moving his head around until he found those lips that were making a wet patch on his neck. He went for a hungry kiss, like the other ones, and Gilfoyle pushed his head forward, kissing him even harder. He put a leg between Dinesh's, a thigh pressing against his groin. It was as desperate as before, but less uncoordinated and weird, and the hottest thing he was ever a part of. Dinesh put his hands inside Gilfoyle's back pockets. 

     They broke apart for trying out other places to explore. Gilfoyle was sucking and licking his skin, while Dinesh stuck his teeth in whatever was close to his mouth. He bit his shoulder and Gilfoyle made a  _noise_  that made Dinesh threw caution away and fight his way inside those jeans. It was too tight for him to reach past his fingers, but the intention was noted. Gilfoyle pulled away so they were looking at each other. He was breathing hard, but Dinesh was sure he was too. Gilfoyle placed a fast kiss on his lips, then came down his throat, ran his nose down Dinesh's torso and suddenly he was sinking to his knees. 

     Having Gilfoyle fighting with the buttons of his pants was as surreal as it was the first time. 

     “Dude!”, Dinesh snapped out of the lust clouding his sight and grabbed the other's hands to stop him from going any further. “What are you doing? Are you insane? We’re on a roof!” 

     “Yeah, so you’re going to have at least one good blowjob story to tell that wouldn’t be a lie”, Gilfoyle put his hands on Dinesh's thighs. 

     “You realize Jared and Richard are just outside and they may come back at any minute, right?” 

     “Uhum”, he answered was just a noise, moving forward to place a kiss on Dinesh's treasure trail, exposed since Gilfoyle was holding up his shirt. Dinesh bit his lip to stuff a sound. “Hot, right?” 

     “No! Wrong! Not hot!” He was almost shouting, but didn’t move a muscle to take Gilfoyle off. Gilfoyle picked up on his tone and sat on his own legs, leaning away. 

     “Right", he seemed impatient, disappointed, still holding Dinesh's legs. "I forgot that you’re a plain, boring virgin. I should bring candles for your first time.” 

     “You know I’m not a virgin, you let me come in your mouth just last week.” 

     “Want to do it again?” 

     Dinesh didn't answer that right away. 

     "Not here!", he shouted and whispered at the same time, something Gilfoyle always found amusing. "Jesus Christ, are you a nympho or something? Is this what I’m getting into? Get up before someone comes back”. Dinesh reached and pulled him by under the armpits. “Let’s keep doing what we were doing before, everybody keeps their pants on.” 

      “Fine, but it would be more fun with no pants.” 

     "Shut up." He was already coming to place their mouths together again. 

     And then Dinesh heard steps on the stairs. 

     “Shit!", he pushed Gilfoyle away from him so hard the other stumbled over his own feet. "Richard is coming back!” 

     "I'll try not to take this personally", said Gilfoyle. 

     Dinesh told him to shut up once more, running his hands through his hair to straighten it and trying his best not to look like something was going on, which just looked even more like something was going on. Gilfoyle put his glasses back. Dinesh was still trying to tuck his shirt back in, not even knowing when it got out, when the door opened. He stopped moving around uncomfortably and put a hand on the balcony, other on his waist, and put his weight on one leg like he saw people do in movies when they want to look casual. 

     He could see in the corner of his eye that Gilfoyle was just dying to make fun of him. 

     “Hey guys", Richard said. He was alone, and thankfully too caught up in his own problems to care for them. Dinesh was starting to think no one would notice, and if they did notice they wouldn’t give the tiniest of shits, if he had left Gilfoyle blow him and they were caught. "Sorry it took so long, but crises remediated. Jared is on board, or at least he isn’t stopping us, so... You two ready to go?” 

     “Jesus, Richard, how long do you take to come in Jared's mouth? We were freezing here.” 

     Richard blinked and frowned, tilting his head in a nervous, confused way. "What the hell, man?" 

     "Yeah, Dinesh, what the hell?", Gilfoyle said right away. "That was uncalled for." 

     Dinesh opened and closed his mouth two times, unsure what to say. Gilfoyle only crossed his arms, eyes open in a suggestive way only Dinesh would understand, and he shook his head in a subtle negative motion before turning his back to walk away. After a moment, Dinesh followed both of them in a hurry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three more chapters to go, and two things about last week's episode:  
> 1- I wrote in Chapter 9 a reference to Gilfoyle listening to Napalm Death and I screamed when it became canon. OF COURSE he loves Napalm Death.  
> 2- Dinesh can't shut up about Gilfoyle when he's drunk and there's that.
> 
> I've been telling my boyfriend he's been portrait in this show for years and all it took for him to want to watch it with me was a Napalm Death reference. So I'm re-watching the first seasons for the first time (I only watched them when they first aired) and early days Gilfoyle is REALLY different from Season 4-5 Gilfoyle? He smiled and laughed more, was way more involved with the others and really friendly to Dinesh, they're always just... Together. I liked it. Give it back to me, writers.
> 
> Well, hope you enjoy this chapter and until next week <3  
> I already finished writing this fic, so I don't think there will be any delays.


	8. Post-RIGYB World

    Dinesh noticed too late that they talked about what that weird gay thing going on meant for him, but never about what it meant for Gilfoyle. 

     He was calling it  _weird gay thing_  in his head now once he figured it wasn’t fair to put it as a _weird Gilfoyle thing_  because last time was definitely on him. 

      There was a growing hesitance inside Dinesh about stepping in the road of wondering what Gilfoyle was taking out of that weird gay thing. It was a growing hesitance, not a static one, because Dinesh had no guarantee that Gilfoyle knew exactly what he was doing and was mind controlling him into an elaborate way to fuck with him – which was the plausible, understanding hypothesis -, or if they were on the same page here – which was the worst possible hypothesis, since Dinesh had no clue if he knew what book he was reading, let alone start on  _pages_. 

      Gilfoyle looked so normal eating his fucking cereal on his fucking workstation and making those same old fucking jokes it was hard not to go with the fucking with him theory. 

     After Hoolicon, Dinesh tried to keep his mind on work. 

     Not for the first time, Pied Piper was facing an end in a disastrous, stupid way. The news quality of it was that Dinesh could see how it may actually be good for him. Now, he had bigger problems to focus on other than that weird gay thing going on. 

     It was hard to keep his mind out the gay thing when he was forced to share the same workspace, kitchen and bathroom with the subject responsible for opening the gay cage, but Richard was being so annoying it was a close second in Dinesh's priority list. 

     He considered that the best plan for his life maybe sunk when he passed on marrying Mia, go in a Bonnie and Clyde sort of hacktivist crusade, commit a federal crime and get himself arrested. At least he wouldn't be dealing with that weird gay thing, in that scenario. Or Gilfoyle. Or how he spent so much time thinking about Gilfoyle lately he was having those dreams again. And now that he was not exactly fighting them, they came more often. And were considerably more pleasant. 

     Dinesh was looking at him and trying to put a pin in when exactly Gilfoyle came out of the cocoon he entered as shaggy twink to become an interesting otter - he was reading about gay culture online, just to entertain himself. In the Buzzfeed list of types of gay men, Dinesh didn’t find anything he would identify as, which he embraced as a good sign that surely meant he was not gay and Gilfoyle was just fucking with him. But then he was thinking that Gilfoyle could also be a wolf (what’s up with gay dudes and wild animals?), because the website said wolf is kind like an otter; that are kind of like bears, but thin, if he got it right? So Gilfoyle was an otter, and Erlich was a bear? Anyway, wolves. Gilfoyle could be a wolf because the  _gay wolf_ was that dude that is hairy and manly and has a shady, quiet, mysterious aura around him that emanates sex. Definitely the kind you want to have sex with, the website said, and Dinesh was thinking Gilfoyle could be a wolf because he surely felt that shady sex aura around him, and he definitely would have sex with him, and that was not a very straight observation to make about a friend. 

     He was kidding no one. Richard was nowhere near to be a close second in Dinesh’s priority list. At least, not until Jared quit. And then there was the internet problem. 

     The internet problem was the urgency dropped in their laps Dinesh chose to focus on at the time.  

     A month ago, Dinesh would have jumped out of that sinking boat to go eat some chips while watching it fade with Richard on the pole, but he was invested in the personal task of occupying his mind. And he was a bit scared of Richard. Just a little bit. It was like the guy was on coke or something. 

     He registers in the back of his mind that maybe he was being a lot selfish to think that crisis came in the right hour for him not to confront the gay thing, but Dinesh really couldn't bring himself to care. Right now, he cared that the house was going to be on fire for the second time in the past couple months if Gilfoyle didn't manage to make Anton hold. He should go help. 

      What the fuck was going on with those contacts was beyond his bar of bearable shit. 

     "What the fuck?!", Richard also shouts out, showing up behind Dinesh. It was like staring at the face of a demon. And it was way harder to contain the weird gay thing when Gilfoyle looked like  _that_. Definitely a wolf. Which was a funny analogy, once Dinesh though of it, because when he was having sex with Gilfoyle he was thinking of bears.

      Dinesh went on a journey to get every fan they had in the house and came back to the garage. Gilfoyle was working so fast he barely registered Dinesh in the room, just waved him with a nod and pointed to where he needed the fans. 

     Gilfoyle would snap if Dinesh touched Anton again after what happened the first time he did, so he helped to try to cool down the servers. 

     "I'm sweating balls in here, holy shit", he complained, drying his forehead with his shirt. It was not the first time Dinesh commented on the fact that the garage felt like a sauna. 

     "Does the heat and sweat remind you of home?", asked Gilfoyle. Dinesh looked at him over the shoulder. He was avoiding look his way, so didn't notice before that somewhere after his arrival Gilfoyle decided to take his shirt off. Dinesh went through his mental cabinet of information about Gilfoyle to choose something to bounce back, and highlighted cold, lizards and Canadians, just to stay in the geographical topic. Gilfoyle was glowing with sweat, and Dinesh remembered exactly how it felt to be pressed against his body, so he wasn't capable of linking those topics in an intelligible way. 

     Gilfoyle found the lack of answer odd and raised his head to look back at Dinesh. 

     "What?" He straightened up his posture. "Cat ate your tongue?" 

     Dinesh put the fan he was holding down and placed both hands on his hips, leaning his head in a way that showed how unimpressed he was with that pun. 

     "Really? A cat joke?", he matched a raised eyebrow with the sarcastic tone in his voice. "You think you're some hot shit, don't you?" 

     "Not usually, no." Gilfoyle cleaned his hands with a rag and Dinesh wasn't surprised when he started walking towards him. "Only when you're looking at me like that." 

     "Like what? Disgust?" 

     Dinesh really had no idea what Gilfoyle thought he was doing, or what he was doing to Gilfoyle, or what they were doing to their friendship, and was starting to suspect that neither did Gilfoyle. Of course, he knew they were trying to save years of work with Anton and Pied Piper in there, but the rest was a blur of dominos falling into a line and he wasn't able to stop the effect. 

     He kind of wished Gilfoyle had his shirt on, because his skin was slippery and there wasn't much friction for Dinesh's hands to push him to a quiet corner over the walls of servers. Also, his own shirt got covered with sweat when Dinesh pulled him down by the back of the head so they could kiss, Gilfoyle willingly coming towards him, pushing Dinesh against Anton and pressing their bodies together. He missed that. Shit, he really missed that. 

     Gilfoyle felt more sweaty and smelly than he had in Keenan's, a lifetime that was only a few weeks ago, but he didn't mind it as much. His tongue was in Dinesh's cheek again, licking his sweat, a new disgusting Gilfoyle habit he was coming to know. Dinesh was already dumped, so what was a little saliva in the mix when you put things into perspective? 

     He pulled away. The wind coming out from a closer fan cooled Dinesh's body and his shirt stuck to Gilfoyle's chest for a moment before letting go with a wet sound. 

     "This is an enjoyable use of Anton's space, but I need to go back to work or we're fucked." He sounded uncertain, like he was saying that, but meaning something else. His eyes were yellow and without the glasses, it was easier to notice his face was red. Dinesh didn't know if it was about the kiss, the heat or the talk. 

      _So, do you hate the heat because you're Canadian or because you're a cold-blooded snake?_  

     That's the comeback he was piercing together before. 

     "Okay", Dinesh answer flatly, or the flatter he could, nodding like he was the reptile in that joke. 

     Gilfoyle still hasn't moved. 

     "Oh", Dinesh made when he realized he was holding the thing Gilfoyle was looking for. It was clear that Gilfoyle had no idea what they were doing either, and he felt oddly better once it was settled that they were on the same page with being both fucked in this. 

     Dinesh patted him on the arm, just in case, which should be sympathetic, but ended up been just weird. He noticed something under his thumb on Gilfoyle's shoulder and frowned, running his finger over the dark piece of skin a few times.

      "What's this?", he asked. Gilfoyle glanced at the bruise for a moment and looked back at Dinesh with that hint of playfulness in his weird looking eyes.

      "You", answered Gilfoyle. "When we were on that roof. You bit me."

      "Oh." Dinesh's frown turned into arched brows and he took the hand away. "Yeah. Shit, sorry man."

      "You people are used to mate with goats, right? That's where you got their biting habit?"

      Dinesh sighed and put on a judgmental pout. "I thought goats where more of your people deal."

      Gilfoyle snorted again and wordlessly turned his back to go back to work. Dinesh needed a moment more staring at his back. The sound that made him move right away was Richard screaming something about a truck from the living room.

 

 

 

     "I can't talk to you when you have these things on." 

     Gilfoyle smiled, and when you could actually see his eyes it did look like a smile. It’s a good look on him, even if Dinesh knew nothing good ever came after a smile from Gilfoyle. Maybe his cat costume was Cheshire. 

     "Can't stop thinking about how hot I look with these contacts?" He said it so calm and casual Dinesh almost didn’t flinch to the meaning of those words, but he did flinch, because how the hell did he know that? “Keep it in your pants, Dinesh." 

     Dinesh crossed his arms and looked away. He almost forgot the weird gay thing over the whole confusion in Stanford. And Anton was dead. He should be comforting his friend, not thinking about this. But, fuck it, it was true. And it was also true that Gilfoyle was just messing with him to distract Dinesh from the fact that he has been sitting alone in the garage for half an hour. 

     Part of Dinesh already knew why he couldn't avoid following a bait settle by that man, and the other part was insistent in fighting the first. Dinesh shoved his foot in the last one's mouth, shutting it up for good, and said: 

     "Yeah." 

     Gilfoyle turned his head in a beat. Cat eyes scanned Dinesh; he could sense them even not bringing himself to look back. There was a layer of curiosity in his voice to what he said next. 

     "What was that?”, asked Gilfoyle, no mockery in his words, just that plain curiosity. 

     Dinesh changed the weight in his feet and kicked a forgotten piece of Anton on the ground. Maybe they should be talking about this, not who finds who hot. Months ago, they would be shitting on Richard. Dinesh's not really buying himself more than two seconds, but it calms his mind. 

     "Yeah, I...You're not exactly painful to look at." 

     Gilfoyle’s answer was just silence. It was unsettling. 

     After a moment where no response came, Dinesh looked up, hands still tucked under armpits and head trying to hide between his shoulders. Gilfoyle licked his bottom lip, a non-characteristic uncertainty in his non-characteristic pair of yellow eyes. It blurred Dinesh's senses in a way he couldn’t distinguish hate and arouser anymore when Gilfoyle leaned in. He stopped midway, trying out the waters. Dinesh leaned the remaining distance. He was still not used to the beard, but he thought he could get there. 

     Gilfoyle tasted like the coffee they bought on the road back and he led the kiss differently from what Dinesh remembered. Not fierce or hungry, just there and nice. He cupped Dinesh's cheek, a thumb caressing his skin. Dinesh put a hand under his hair and went to the back of his neck. 

     That kiss wasn't supposed to be like the ones they shared before, where there was an urge kill a long-term desire, but was lasting too long. Dinesh's body was starting to respond. Getting himself a boner was surely not appropriate when they were still grieving over Anton and Pied Piper's deaths. Also, he felt like he would be disrespecting the servers making out with his dad over his grave. He broke the kiss before it came to that. Dinesh couldn’t believe he was actually engaging in Gilfoyle's sick fantasy about that thing being alive, but it was an emphatic impulse. He was not used to empathy, which was also unsettling. Make it stop. 

     Gilfoyle took the hand away from his face. He didn't keep his attention on Dinesh, but was back to watching the empty garage. He took the beer Dinesh brought for them and opened the cap with a hand. Dinesh followed – he had to use his shirt for support, the pointy edges hurting his palm. 

     "We'll have to talk about this, eventually", said Gilfoyle in the usual monotone tone. 

    "I don't want to", Dinesh replied in the usual nervous one. 

     "I understand." 

     "You do?" 

     "Sure." He took a sip. "I mean, you are you. And I'm me. Not exactly rocket science here." 

     "Christ ", Dinesh hissed between griped teeth and ran a hand through his face. “It’s not that." 

     "No?" The curiosity was back when Dinesh looked to the side and Gilfoyle was watching him. "Aren't you having a really late experience of sexual awakening?" 

     "No!", he was fast on shouting, his voice too high. "I mean... Yeah, probably. A little bit. But mostly is just..." Dinesh stuffed a nervous laugh and looked away. "You're going to mock me." 

     It wasn't easy to say that out loud. He felt weakened, emasculated, like he was putting on the loser hat Gilfoyle knitted for him during all those years they knew each other by admitting he cared for that man's opinions. But fuck if he wasn’t relieved once it was out there. 

     "I won't." 

     "That's the thing". Dinesh took another sip and pointed the neck of the bottle to his side. "I don't believe you." 

     "Ow." Gilfoyle almost sounded surprised. "That one is on me, I guess." 

     "A little bit on me, too. I recognize I haven't been an easy person to deal with." 

     "Let's establish none of us has being a model of moral support to one another and get this part over with, or we are going to keep apologizing for a period of time longer than my burning hate towards Richard right now."

      He laughed, beer coming out of his nose, and leaned forward to wipe it clean with his sleeve. Gilfoyle was smirking when Dinesh looked at him. The shared smile was there for two, maybe three seconds, and ended when Dinesh realized he wanted to kiss him again. He truly wanted to kiss Gilfoyle again. Just place a peck on his lips or cheek, ran a hand through his hair and put his arm around him. It wasn't even just sexual, although that too. Gilfoyle wasn't even traditionally handsome or anything, he was no Farhan Akhtar, but he was attractive in his own particular, confident and carefree way, and Dinesh would really like to put his head on that part of his belly that looked so soft. Just do normal friends stuff, and some normal more-than-friends stuff. He would like that. Him. 

      Things were clearly never going back to what it was. 

      "I take for your panicking that I should go first." 

     "Yes, please. Go ahead." 

     Gilfoyle put the beer down and crossed his arms. 

     All parts of Dinesh's life collapsed in the past few hours, but maybe he could save this one. 

     "I have been thinking about this. What it is, what has been, what could become, what I want to take out of it... And, honestly, I would. Do it with you, I mean. I would." 

     Dinesh put his beer down too. 

     "What is  _this,_  exactly? You say... I don't know", he scratched his forehead. "Like, an FWB situation? But are we even friends? Would it be, then, an RWB,  _rivals with benefits_ thing? And how would we even... Or we just, like, make-out when we feel like it? Do we work around dates? Because I think I could be okay with it if that’s what you’re proposing. Making out... with you... Gilfoyle." 

     Gilfoyle was usually entertained when Dinesh's mind was working so hard in remembering words he talked in parcels. He wasn't letting out a sharp smirk to his lack of social skills this time. 

     "No, that's not what I meant", he said. 

     "So, what did you meant?" 

     Gilfoyle breathed heavily through his mouth. 

     "I meant that I want to date you, Dinesh." 

     "Oh." Suddenly it was too hot and too cold altogether and Dinesh couldn't think straight. He faced forward, to nothing but an empty wall, and closed both hands into fists around his knees. He didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense, although it kind of did. With that characteristic endless patience Dinesh hated, Gilfoyle was waiting for a response at the end of his minor freak out. "But... Why? You... Hate me." 

     "Don't we already establish that I don't?" 

     "We make each other miserable." 

     "I may be in love with you." 

     Dinesh couldn't hear anything past the sound of his heart going crazy in his ears. His mouth dropped open. Gilfoyle seemed unaffected, that ridiculously plain expression he worked hard to pull, different from his usual bored expression, not knowing then that Dinesh could tell the difference. 

     "What the fuck?!" 

     "You heard me just fine." 

     Dinesh took his beer and drank almost half of it in one single gulp.  _Drink it up,_ an older version of Gilfoyle told him. _It's not going to change who you are_. 

     "If you're messing with me right now Gilfoyle, I swear to God, or to The Dark Lord or whatever..." 

     "I'm not." And maybe for the first time in some long weeks, Dinesh believed him. 

     "You have some fucked-up way to show it, then." Gilfoyle shrugged. Having that information dropped on his shoulders should feel confusing and terrifying, but it didn't. Dinesh felt a heavy weight being lifted from his chest instead, and the more he stared at Gilfoyle, the more it made sense. They have been dancing around this for years. It already tired them both. "So, when people say its bullshit that boys pull the pretty girl's pigtails because they like her, and if someone does that they're probably psychopaths and the girl should call the police, are you the living proof this is false or are you a psychopath?" 

      "That's not..." Gilfoyle pitched the tip of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. "Shit, I don't know. Maybe I am. This isn't even about being a psychopath, we say that so we can teach girls that humiliation is not a legit or healthy form of affection and they deserve better." 

      Dinesh blinked fast a couple times.

      "You heard what you just said, right?" 

      "I'm not trying to sell you apples for oranges." 

      "No, you're trying to sell me an unhealthy relationship where I'll feel like crap every day." 

      "If that's the way you see things, there’s nothing to discuss here. You deserve better." 

       Those words hit his ears and stomach heavier than the whole love confession. Dinesh took another sip of the almost empty bottle of dark beer. He didn’t usually like the taste of beer, but Gilfoyle's Old Rasputin was alright. 

     "But..." Gilfoyle started and stopped, his gaze fixed on his own feet. "I could try to be better, if this changes anything." 

       It actually didn't change anything, because Dinesh realized he wasn't considering stopping doing this weird gay thing with Gilfoyle, even if they haven't established what  _this_ was yet and it didn’t felt weird at all anymore. 

      "Then what? How would this work? I don't think I could..." 

       He still couldn't say it. 

     "Spit it out." Dinesh furrowed his brows and made a whiney sound. Gilfoyle took his beer back and drank an equally long sip. Maybe this has been stressing for him too. "I already said I possibly love you, Dinesh, nothing following this could be more embarrassing. Say it." 

    "I don't want an open relationship", his words tripped over one another and his eyes were still locked on a particularly uninteresting spot on the wall. "I can't manage it." 

     "Okay. We won't have one." 

     He turned his head around. 

     "But... What about your Satanists Against Monogamy bullshit?" 

     "You just said it yourself. It's bullshit." Gilfoyle shrugged again, looking at his feet moving around the same piece of Anton Dinesh was kicking before. "I had open relationships my whole adult life and as far as I'm concerned, none of that went well". Scrapping the label of the bottle with a sharp part of his ring, Gilfoyle didn't speak again for a while. "I didn't have many of them, actually. Romantic relationships. Tara was the one that lasted longer and we saw each other for four weeks a year. She probably fucked any guy in church more than she fucked me. And you know why she lied about it. She felt bad because she knew I wasn't doing anyone here." 

     “And why wouldn’t you?” 

     “What do you think?” It sounded like a rhetorical question, but Dinesh really didn't know. Actually, he always thought Gilfoyle was getting some somewhere, but flashing back to it he never saw the guy make a move in anyone. Well, anyone but him. 

     “So… Are you open to having a closed relationship? And with  _me_?” 

     He closed his eyes and breathed in and out. Dinesh wonders if he did yoga. He once saw a yoga mattress in his room. 

     “This doesn’t mean I will believe in any fairy tale happy-ever-after crap you probably do, or soul mates or whatever. I won’t stop being attracted to other people and I don’t expect you to. It’s human, it's going to happen, neither of us is particularly interesting or attractive people. Monogamy makes us lie about this being human and happening." He made a pause at that point. "But I understand it can also be about security", he kept going. Dinesh didn't know if he could do that, show Gilfoyle his true thoughts. "Listen, man, the deal is I’m not getting any nicer than this. I’m a homeless and unemployed paranoid introvert with a bad attitude. People never liked me for more than a few weeks, but for some reason, you’re fucked up enough to. I appreciate the kind of bullshit-free relationship we built. I don’t think it would change many things on a day-to-day basis, we already spend an unhealthy amount of time together. And it’s clear we both enjoy the making-out part. I think I would enjoy having sex with you and you would be having sex, so you’re clearly up for the deal. This being said, I could do exclusive if you will have me. I reach a point in my life where everything is an unstable and deep pit full of shit. It would be nice to have security in at least one front.” 

     "So, you're saying you're going for me because you have no other option since I'm the only person who stands to be around you?" 

     It wasn't what Gilfoyle was saying and he knew it, but Dinesh has always been an immature dick and he didn't felt like stopping now. Why the fuck would Gilfoyle want him, anyway? Maybe there was a lot of people more attractive and interesting than Dinesh, but Dinesh doubted he would ever meet someone more interesting than Gilfoyle. 

     "Only a dick would choose to think that over what I said, you know? You're a dick." They were so in synch with that it freaked Dinesh out a bit. Gilfoyle just reads his mind. Not really. He  _gets_ him. 

     “Would I have to call you my boyfriend?”, he saw himself asking a minute later. 

     Gilfoyle was drinking the rest of his beer and stopped the bottle on his mouth, trailing back to Dinesh. He put the bottle down. 

     “Is it a deal breaker for you?” 

      Dinesh made an uncertain noise. 

     “I don’t think I can even tell people you are my friend.” 

     “You don’t have to wrap your mind around it just now. We can take small steps. For now, I think we need to look for a new job.” 

     “Yeah. I would like that. To keep working with you, I mean.” 

     “Whoever hires you is going to need a real programmer to fix your shitty code, so.” 

     “Fucking…” 

     Gilfoyle got up, and before Dinesh could move he had positioned between his legs and was wrapping his fingers in front of his shirt and pulling him forward. His tongue invaded Dinesh’s mouth and was just like he remembered, the hunger and fierceness. Gilfoyle's kisses were just an extension of his personality. Dinesh felt threatened by it, but also drawn to it. He usually liked dominant partners, but since it was Gilfoyle, and he had things to prove to Gilfoyle craved in his existence with fire, he urged to resist being overpowered. It was a treat to hear him react to every bite with a surprised breath, leaning harder into Dinesh. 

     He broke apart all of sudden. 

     “And for this part?" He was skipping a breath, flushed. "Do you think you would like it too?” 

     Dinesh still had a handful of Gilfoyle’s hair. 

     “Shit, you really  _are_ into me”, he said with a big, smug smile. "I'm feeling like the prom queen here."

      "Yeah, I'm promoting you from your princess status. Answer the question."

      “I can manage it”, he said and pulled him back. 

     Gilfoyle groaned into the kiss when Dinesh’s leg start vibrating; a frustrated sound, not the good ones for when Dinesh was fighting him for domain. Dinesh reached into his pocket to take the phone out, but Gilfoyle's hand stopped him and took it on his own. He threw the phone across the room. 

     “Hey!", shouted Dinesh. "What the fuck, dude?!" 

     "You're busy", Gilfoyle said, the rough touch of a beard on his skin not weird anymore. 

     "It could be important." 

     "The only person who would call you this early is Richard, and Richard is dead to me." 

      The phone was still vibrating on the floor. 

     "Fuck, I need to take it." 

     Gilfoyle threw his hands in the air, defeated. Dinesh walked past him to take his phone out of the floor. It was Jared. He answered and put him on speaker. 

 

 

  

     Dinesh stood outside Gilfoyle's bedroom with his hands on his hips. He knew the other was inside because of the light coming from under the threshold. And he knew he had to knock before anyone came into the hall and saw him standing outside Gilfoyle's bedroom with his hands on his hips. It would be hard to explain what he was doing. 

      He didn’t knock. 

      Half a minute later and the door was opening anyway. Gilfoyle stood there, impatience in his tired features. 

       “I can see the shadow of your feet from inside”, he said. “You’re standing here for at least five minutes.” Dinesh kept standing awkwardly in the corridor, his hands on his hips, dumbly looking up at the other man. Gilfoyle pulled the door far open to make room. "Fuck me. Come." 

      "Yes, thanks." 

     Dinesh nodded and stepped inside. 

      He has been in that place a few times before, in which most of them he didn’t go further than the doorway. It always looked different - smaller, crowded, as if since the last time things hadn't been organized, just added to the piles of vinyl, books, DVDs, and hardware. Gilfoyle had four dismembered cabinets and two set up PCs. A poster from 1978 Alucarda was covering the only window. A plastic bag half-full with beer bottles was settled by the bed and Dinesh saw weed in the nightstand. It reminded him of college. Not his room in college, which was as impeccable as the room he had now, but the college dorms he saw in American movies when he was a kid. 

     Dinesh couldn't see a place to sit down, so he resumed to awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, watching as Gilfoyle close the door and spun around. The walls felt too close to each other, probably because of the shelves Gilfoyle put up, mostly filled with equipment; but he also had a lot of theoretical books, some medieval fantasy ones, a weird Baphomet plush that screamed Tara and a sword. Dinesh frowned to the last one. It was a Sting replica. He wondered if it glowed in the dark. Gilfoyle was such a nerd, Dinesh almost smiled. He swallowed dry instead. 

     "I was..." He started and stopped, hoping the other would say something, but he didn't. Gilfoyle was just watching him scanning the room, nothing there tipping he would talk first. "Kind of expecting you last night?", he said. "In my... room, I mean. I was expecting you." 

     Gilfoyle crossed his arms and leaned against the closed door. 

     "I didn't know that. You didn't ask me to and I can't read minds, Dinesh." 

      "Sure, but we never got to finish our... talk, so I figured..." 

     This conversation kept being interrupted and it was starting to make Dinesh frustrated. It's like Pied Piper was trying to stop them for clarifying the direction their relationship was heading to. He has been watching Gilfoyle all day, waiting for a hint, wondering if that's it, they're dating now, but nothing felt different in the way they talked to each other in front of Richard and Jared. He wanted to know what would be like when they were alone. They're alone now. 

      "I assumed you wanted some time to think", said Gilfoyle. "I already spoke my mind the other day. And..." Gilfoyle's eyes traveled to another place in the room other than Dinesh. He was wearing glasses again. It looked exactly like the previous one. Dinesh was surprised he got a new prescription that fast. Something was wrong. Gilfoyle almost looked...  _Upset._  

     "Oh, shit!" Holy fuck, he was an even bigger dick than Gilfoyle. "Dude, I was so caught out in our thing that I totally forgot about Anton." Gilfoyle went back to him, curious about Dinesh's insight in what was bothering him, since Dinesh usually had his head so far up his ass he couldn't see anything that wasn't orbiting around himself. "How are you doing?" He was clearly uncomfortable with having to care for another person. "Do you... Need something?" 

     "I'm fine", said Gilfoyle, who was also uncomfortable with being cared for. Dinesh was glad he changed the topic next: "What do you want?" 

    He made a new scan for a place to sit down. There was a chair by the only computer that seemed finished, but some parts of the others who weren't crowded the seat. Gilfoyle didn't offer him a seat, anyway. He probably knew Dinesh was just stalling. Of course he could read minds, he just didn't come last night because he was having feelings about other stuff and he wasn't used to feelings at all, so he could only deal with a crisis at a time. To deal with Dinesh, he needed to be in his best game. He wouldn't rescue him saying the stuff Dinesh didn't want to say. 

     "I was thinking...", he crossed his arms and stared at the floor for a moment, where he was stepping in a couple wires he had no idea what were linked to. He would probably be yelled at if it was important. "We should wait a few weeks, to not overcast Richard's news with our dating one". 

     Dinesh didn't really care for Richard, but he would like a few trial days before coming out with this. Gilfoyle was looking at him as he gets it, because he probably did. 

     "Okay", he said. 

     "Okay", Dinesh agreed. 

     He should leave now. They talked. Things were crystal clear. Gilfoyle was still blocking the door and Dinesh was still awkwardly standing with his hands on his hips.  

      Gilfoyle dethatched his back from the door and came towards him in easy steps, as if not to scare Dinesh with sudden movements. He sure felt like pray. Gilfoyle put a hand on his waist and Dinesh took away his own to let him pull them closer. He took a step towards him too, more because he was pulled than because he intended. With the lack of something better to do with his hands, Dinesh embraced him by the shoulders. It was not clear who kissed first, but he was okay if it was both of them leaning in at the same time. 

     The taste of Gilfoyle's mouth was starting to feel familiar. 

     He was not coming out with the same intensity as before, which Dinesh read as an oddly nice thing to do. Gilfoyle was giving him an out if he wanted to pull away. But he wanted it. He closed the grip on his hair, remembering the way he reacted to it when he did that at Keenan's, and bit his lip hard. Gilfoyle hissed. 

     "Fuck", he said once Dinesh let go of his lip. "You must be part piranha." 

     "And you a raccoon, since you have an accumulation problem going on", replied Dinesh, tripping over a wire when he tried to push Gilfoyle towards the bed. 

     Gilfoyle put a foot back to gain some base to stop Dinesh, understanding what he was doing. Dinesh let go of kissing his neck and looked for his face, an eyebrow cocked up. 

     "You know we don't have to do anything now, right? It's not like it has to be validated on the night of the deal to count here." 

     "Fuck you." He saw a book in Urdu over the nightstand, so he knows Gilfoyle knows he's being ridiculous. The teasing only made him want to mark him more. Maybe he has a self-esteem problem. Dinesh dragged him closer. "I know. But I... Fuck, Gilfoyle, alright, I  _want you_." 

     "Shit." 

     "What?" Dinesh instantly lets go of him. "Why?!" 

     "I don't want us to start this with an ice bucket, but I rather not now. Don't get me wrong, I'm usually up for twenty-four hours of wild sex intercalated with the best cuddle you will ever have, but..." 

     He stared at his feet. 

     "Anton", Dinesh pointed out. He keeps forgetting about it. That giant piece of hardware that died in the most ridiculous way was somehow important for that man and Gilfoyle was grieving it like it was a person. He would usually mock him mercilessly. He didn't feel like doing that for now. "Alright, I… Sorry." Gilfoyle said nothing. "I can leave." 

     "No, that's fine". He closed his eyes for a moment and waved a hand. "Stay." 

      Dinesh felt warmed by that word in a way that almost made him smile again. It wasn't appropriated, so he didn't. He considered something else. 

      "Can we..." Dinesh looked over to the bed and then back to Gilfoyle, who was still analyzing the shape of his bare feet. "Can we have only the cuddle part tonight?" 

      Gilfoyle's eyes came back to meet his gaze. He didn't answer for a while. 

     "Sure." 

     Dinesh smiled, then his face fell when he looked at the bed again. 

     "So... Where do I...? Do we even fit in this thing?" 

      Gilfoyle rolled his eyes and walked past him to start taking things out of the bed. It wasn't as big as Dinesh's, and he crowded one of the sides with junk such as empty food packages, books and pieces of hardware, but it would do for two. There was grease on the side of the sheets he didn't sleep in. Gilfoyle took it out and went through his closet until he found a clean one. 

       Dinesh felt awkward standing there watching Gilfoyle change his bedsheets so Dinesh would have a clean place in his bed to sleep in, so he shifts to scanning the room. He walked closer to analyze the Sting replica. They had Lord of The Rings marathons more than a few times in the house, because of course they did, and more than once just the two of them. He knew Gilfoyle liked medieval stuff, just not this much. He had a D&D dice set. Who the fuck did he play with Dinesh had no idea. Dinesh himself enjoyed this stuff too, but was more of a Magic and Harry Potter kind of guy. He liked to think of himself as a Ravenclaw, but Gilfoyle said he was clearly a spoiled Slytherin that time they were the only adults without kids in line to see The Half-Blood Prince. Gilfoyle thought of himself as a Hufflepuff; he was probably right on that one. 

      They went to a Harry Potter premiere together. Dinesh was shocked it took so long for them to realize they have been dating for years. Although to be fair, Gilfoyle only insisted on coming because Dinesh may have told him he cried reading the book and Gilfoyle wanted to see if he would cry again. And he didn't want to go by himself. Going to the movies alone was just too sad. 

     "Are you going to bed in this?" Gilfoyle’s voice brought him back from the curious analyses of the seemingly sharp weapon on the wall. 

     Dinesh snapped out of his trance and looked at Gilfoyle, then to what he was wearing. The long sleeved yellow and purple shirt and red pants. 

     "No, you're right", he said. 

      Before he could register what was going on, Gilfoyle started to undress. He took off his pants first. Gilfoyle wore trunks. Sure he did. Sure it looked good. 

      "Do you, hm..." Dinesh started and Gilfoyle stopped taking his shirt off to look at him. "Do you have something I can borrow? I don't want to go back to my room and change." 

      "What? Do you think I own pajamas?" He smirked. "Just strip. Nothing there I haven't seen already." 

       _Not in this lighting_ , Dinesh thought of arguing, but Gilfoyle took off his shirt and undershirt in one single movement. 

      "Okay", sighed Dinesh, scratching his arm for a moment before turning around to shyly slide his pants down his legs. He figured it was ridiculous to turn his back to him and spun around, cursing himself for wearing the X-Files boxers today of all days. Gilfoyle stared at the pattern in his boxers and there was playful judgment in his eyes, but he didn’t make any comment. 

      "Can I have that?" Dinesh pointed a gray long-sleeved shirt Gilfoyle was wearing two days ago, resting in the back of a chair. 

     "Suit yourself. It's not fresh washed, though." 

      Instinctively, feeling eyes following his every move, Dinesh turned his back to him while he took off his shirt. Gilfoyle's shirt was longer on him, but also tighter on arms and chest. And it smelled like him. Dinesh inhaled it when Gilfoyle wasn't looking, occupied sitting on his side of the bed – because now there was his side and Dinesh's side. He sat there and waited. For a moment, Dinesh just looked at him and felt like an asshole for being almost fully dressed while the other was wearing only trunks. He laid down and tapped the other side of the bed, inviting. Dinesh moved. 

      He took off his glasses and waited for Dinesh to sit on the bed to turn off the lights. 

      Gilfoyle was wrapping his arm around him when Dinesh pushed his chest. He stopped. 

       "I want to be the bigger spoon", he said fast, incisive. This was important. The Sting replica was glowing a pale blue light, so the room wasn't completely dark and he could see that Gilfoyle was not going to drop it that easily. 

     "Why?" He hoisted himself up by an elbow. "I'm not against it, just curious. Is it so you won't feel my dick pressed on your ass? Do you think it's emasculating to be the little spoon? Because none of that will change the fact that you willingly got in bed with me." 

      "No. It's just that I can be disorientated after I wake up in a place I'm not familiar with, and if the first thing I see is your face, I'm going to punch you. I mean, I may just punch you now and get this over with. Up to you." 

      "And you won't be confused if it's the back of my head?" 

      "I may think it's a girl, you know. Seeing just the hair." 

       "Hm. I see. And you think you would be more surprised by waking up in an unfamiliar bed with a random woman than you would by waking up in my bed with me in it?" He was smirking again. 

      "I think I will just punch you now, then." 

      Gilfoyle bowed down and stuck his head past Dinesh's arm and into his chest, forcefully snugging against the man's side.  No spoons, then. It seemed like a fair compromise. For a moment, Dinesh still thought about arguing, but Gilfoyle felt nice, so he put his arms around him. They shifted until they found a comfortable position and Dinesh rested his nose on top of his head. Gilfoyle pulled the sheets until he found the end the shirt Dinesh was wearing and slide his hand inside, resting it next to where his face was. 

     "Why is your hand inside my shirt?", Dinesh asked, his eyes closed. 

     "My shirt", corrected him. 

      "Yeah, but my chest." 

      "I want to feel you, but you're the jerk who put on a shirt, so. The hand stays." 

      "Okay." They fell silent for a while. "Why was that thing so important to you, anyway?" 

     "Hm." 

     "I meant it. Tell me." 

     Gilfoyle didn't say anything, so Dinesh slightly shook his shoulders. The other groaned. 

      "You can punch me now, it's better than to stand you like this." 

      "Tell meee!", he demanded. A spoiled Slytherin indeed. 

     "Well..." Gilfoyle sighed. Guess they're doing this. "Before Anton, I didn't really felt fulfilled with a project in a long time. I haven't built anything in a long time. I wasn't happy in a long time." He stops, waiting for some sign to keep going. Dinesh considered if it's too soon to tell him he knows Gilfoyle takes depression drugs since the first year they have been housemates. He forgot the pills in his desk one time. It’s not really that big of a deal, half of the people in that town must take depression drugs and the other half was in for anxiety. "It's... I'm sure you know it can get lonely if you're a dick to everyone. He was an ear. I could talk stuff in there without the pressure. It's hard for me to open up." 

      "No shit." 

     "You asked. I guess I liked Anton because I could let the walls down with him. It was a break. You really kick me in places that are sore sometimes. He was a friend, and he was this amazing thing I made. I like building things, you know? Feels good. Knowing you can, I don't know." Another sigh. Opening up was exhausting for Dinesh too. 

      "I get it", he said as tightening his arms around Gilfoyle. "I'm sorry. For all the kicking, I mean." 

      "It's fine." 

     "I am your friend." 

      There was a sudden stiffness in Gilfoyle's shoulders. It slowly faded away. 

     "Yes. And I am yours." 

      Dinesh rolled a lock of his hair between fingers. 

     "Gilfoyle?" 

     "If you make another question, I'm going to punch myself." 

     "I think I may be in love with you, too." 

     He said nothing, but there wasn't any stiffness this time. Gilfoyle snugged harder against the side of Dinesh's body, interlinking their legs.

     "That's good to know." 

     "You were right, this cuddle is pretty good. I had betters, but you're definitely in the top five." 

     "You haven't slept with five people." He lifted his head and gave him a light kiss on the lips. "You're welcome in here anytime. Now, shut the fuck up and go to sleep. Goodnight, Dinesh." 

     "Goodnight." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I already posted a sad Dinfoyle fic this week, so here you go have a cute one. I just want them to be functional boyfriends.  
> Dinesh has no idea what kind of gay he is because I don't either. Is Dinesh a daddy? That doesn't sound right at all lol  
> Anyways, technically it says this fic is going to have 10 chapters, but the 10th is more of an epilogue, so, in a way, the next chapter will be the last one? I was thinking about just posting the epilogue after the 9 and not waiting a week, since it's already done and it's shorter than a chapter (not super short, but shorter). What do you guys think? Let it linger another week, or finish it already?  
> Hope you liked the chapter :)


	9. Merging

     "What are you doing?"  

     Gilfoyle opened his eyes. He was lying on Dinesh's bed, glasses pressed sideways on his face because of the position his head rested on the pillow, and an uncomfortable itch behind his ear where the fold locked a few strings of hair. Hair that Dinesh was touching. That was not what made him open his eyes, though; Dinesh was playing with it for at least five minutes, and it was nice, so Gilfoyle didn't dare to move to rearrange the glasses. He knew the other would freak out and stop realizing he was awake this whole time. He liked when people played with his hair. It was new that the person was Dinesh.  

     What made Gilfoyle open his eyes was feeling both Dinesh's hands pushing his hair behind his head and holding it there.   

   Dinesh's expression was thoughtful. He doesn't stop pulling locks and holding them in a fist.   

    "I'm trying to see your face. What you look like without all the hair and beard, you know?"   

    Gilfoyle blinked. He was still sleepy for the after-sex bliss and the strange bed under him was ridiculously more comfortable than his own, so that snort didn't come out as tart as it would under other circumstances.   

    "Is it relevant to you how? I'm not shaving or cutting."   

    "I know. Just curious."  

    "I can show you a picture, but I have to warn you, you're not going to get a boner to it."  

    "And now I'm more curious."  

     "Remember me to get it with the cat one from Hollow's Eve. By the way, that one is going to get you rock hard. I am a hot cat."  

    He stopped pulling, but was still holding. When Gilfoyle resumed closing his eyes, Dinesh waited for a second and kept going.   

    "Fuck, Dinesh. Alright."  

    Slapping the hand away, Gilfoyle sat up with an annoyed sigh. He was shaking his head in a negative motion, but put both arms up to manage a fast bun. He doesn't like to tie his hair up. It could get too hot and sweaty, which added to the excess oiliness that plagued everything on his body from hair to skin, usually meant smelly too. But Dinesh turned to watch him do it, so Gilfoyle settled with the knowledge that this is what he does now, he goes out of his way just to please Dinesh. A year ago, he would have laughed in the face of anyone who foresaw this outcome.  

    He made an exaggerated gesture with both hands once it was done. Dinesh sat up and stared. There's a short smile in the corner of his mouth.   

    "Can I...?" Without waiting for an answer, he reached out and took off his glasses.   

    "I can't see shit", Gilfoyle complained and squeeze his eyes for a moment before opening them.   

    "Holy shit. Your eyes are freaking huge. I always thought it was lens distortion."  

    "Yeah. I've been told this before. Pretty ironic that my vision is shit."  

    "And how is your hearing?"   

    "Why?"   

    "Because your eyes are only losing to the size of your ears. I understand the long hair now, or every time you tripped over something you would, like, start flying around. Did you get called Dumbo much in school?"  

     "I don't trip over anything, but I'm surprised you don't either with the size of your nose overcasting your vision."  

     "You can't say that! That's racist. I can say it because it's true. Oh my God, is Dumbo your trigger word?"   

     "Go eat a pile of goat shit."  

     "What's up with you and goats, anyway? Hey, do you have super hearing? Is there someone in the kitchen right now? Because I need a glass of water, but, you know, don't want to bump into anyone. Help me out here."  

     "Yeah, they're in there talking about how much of a pathetic loser you are."  

     Dinesh laughed again, so Gilfoyle knew he was not winning that one. It normally ended with him at the edge of tears – sad tears, not joy tears. He felt flushed inside and reached out for the glasses, maybe taking them too forcefully, which only made Dinesh laugh harder. Gilfoyle put the glasses back on and moved an arm to start undoing the bun, cursing and teaching himself a lesson.   

     "Oh, come one, don't pout." His tone was way softer than what Gilfoyle was used to. Turning to hiss some salty comment, he was interrupted by the feeling of being held. A warm path of breath broke against his skin, Dinesh throwing him back on the mattress and using the full weight of his body to keep Gilfoyle down. Not that he was utterly trying to escape. His laugh continued, although he seemed to be trying to make it low, and suddenly he was kissing Gilfoyle ears. "You're so fucking ugly, you know?", and he delivered kisses in the other one, pausing to bite a line of skin. "How am I so into you? I could just snug them off. Can I do that? Can I kiss your stupid ears so much they will fall off your head? I would." His voice was muffled, mouth on Gilfoyle's skin, and he was not mad anymore. This is fine.   

     Gilfoyle laughed. And it's different. Not a paused, devilish, sarcastic and weird laugh. Just a laugh.   

     Dinesh froze on top of him.   

     "It's okay", he assured after figuring it's being too long Dinesh was breathing in silence in the curve of his neck. The back of his head was a mess of dark silky hair and Gilfoyle held the urge to play with it a little too. Dinesh's hair was too soft. Hair wasn't supposed to be that soft.  

     "Is it?" The weight of Dinesh's body against his chest left and let an uncomfortable void behind. "It's just... I don't think I ever heard you sound like this before."  

     "Like what?"  

     "I don't know, just... Hm", he was avoiding Gilfoyle's gaze, as if embarrassed to admit it to him. "Normal, I guess?"  

     "Oh", it's all he had to say to that. "And what do you think?"   

     Dinesh supported his head on a hand, elbow sinking on the mattress, and thought for a moment.   

     "I like it", he finally said.   

     "Good."  

     "I like the way your huge and pretty cat eyes look at me when I'm inside of you."  

     "Holy shit."  

     Dinesh's eyes and mouth shot wide open in a second, his face going red and hot, and he stuttered half a dozen words without making any sense. Gilfoyle's eyes were even wider.  

     "I'm sorry, I wasn't... Oh fuck, sorry I... I don't..."    

     The mild shock was gone as suddenly as it came and there was another new feeling in those big eyes magnified behind glasses before Gilfoyle reached up with both hands and pulled him down. Their mouths crashed together with a fury Dinesh was too familiar with by now and could reciprocate. He told him last night, in a vulnerable state they didn't discuss the next morning, that Gilfoyle was the only person who ever kissed him like that. It was breathtaking for Gilfoyle, too. It was like drowning, and it was fucking amazing. He squeezed both hands around Dinesh's ass, closing the grip as he pulled Dinesh on top of him. He felt himself starting to grow hard again. Gilfoyle wasn’t wearing any clothes, but Dinesh put on some boxers immediately after they had sex. It wasn't clear if he was uncomfortable with his body or just with Gilfoyle. Both had something to do with why he was wearing boxers and pulling away from Gilfoyle's erection.  

     They broke apart with a wet sound and a string of saliva between them that would be disgusting if it wasn't... Well, them.  

     "That was the hottest thing you ever said", he breathed out heavily and Dinesh was laughing again. "You're really...  _gigglish_  in bed." 

     "I'm sorry." 

     "And apologetic."  

    "Sorry. Shit! Yeah, I see what you mean. It's just..." 

    He trailed his eyes around the room, avoiding the gaze of his sharp company as long as he could. It stops the moment Gilfoyle move to cup his neck, fingers softly touching his hair. He went back at him, trying to occupy his hands folding and unfolding a flap of the sheet.  

     "It's still a little weird, you know? Isn't it weird to you? I feel like the second we get out of this bed I'm going to have the breakdown of my life." 

     "Yeah, that's about right." 

     Dinesh rolled his eyes. 

      "It doesn't come as a surprise to me that you are used to be sorry in bed." 

     Gilfoyle knew Dinesh felt better every time they shifted to the familiar ground of bouncing back insults, and truth be told, he did too. It was not like he enjoyed insulting Dinesh just for the sake of it. It was never about insulting him. It used to be about showing him and the world how far he was from the image he painted of himself, like Gilfoyle was doing some public service here. Gilfoyle never liked liars, but he always liked the look on their faces when they were caught. And it was just so easy with Dinesh. Then, it was about proving a point until it was about winning a game no one but him was keeping scores. It grew dangerous once it stopped being about points, games of whatever feelings Gilfoyle may have about liars and started to be more about taking reactions out of him, because at that point it was just about Dinesh. 

      "It's fine, man", he said after a moment, Dinesh still doing that nervous gesture with the sheets. “You're probably going to freak out a couple times because this is weird as fuck, and maybe I will too, but that's just how transitions go. You're not Pakistani Denzel or whatever you call yourself in a very stupid, cringe way these days, but… I’m up for this.” 

     "Okay", he let go of the sheet and decided to roll a finger around the patch of hair on Gilfoyle's chest instead. It's weird, but it's nice too. "Thanks for, hm, putting yourself in the equation. I was starting to feel like I'm the only one freaking out here. It just keeps playing in my mind like a loop, you know?  _Holy shit, I'm in bed with Gilfoyle!_ _That’s Gilfoyle freaking naked in my bed!_ " 

      "Because I'm so out of your league and you're overwhelmed?" Dinesh was cocking up an eyebrow, ready for joining the game, but Gilfoyle cut it short: "It's not in my nature to overthink my instincts." He blinked a bit too slow, eyes closing for too long before opening again. Something softened his features, and then hardened it. "Right now, my instincts are telling me I like the way you feel inside of me." The shoulders he was holding tensed and Dinesh visibly held a breath. Gilfoyle let go of him. "No?"  

     "No, I..." His voice cracked, too high, so he stopped to clear his throat. “I wasn't expecting it, but... Yeah, that’s hot." 

     "Alright." Gilfoyle put his hand back, a thumb drawing circles on Dinesh's skin, and for a moment they just watched each other. "Dinesh?", he asked, head moving closer to him. The answer is a hesitant  _hm_ _?_  He let the tip of his fingers go up and down his hairy arm until the hair there was standing. "You're supposed to kiss me now."  

     His lips were soft and Dinesh smelled like sex. He was not the best kisser, but the effort shows and Gilfoyle cursed himself for falling that hard for such a broken human being while he, no doubt, enjoyed that sloppy kiss with way too many teeth in it. Normally, the rhythm was set by him, but this time he let Dinesh take the lead. It felt more natural for him to stride Gilfoyle after a moment into the kiss, and he doesn't move so Gilfoyle's boner is nowhere near his skin again, but place their hips together. Dinesh was not that hard yet. He broke the kiss to go to his neck, staying there for a while, rocking against Gilfoyle's erection with his own and breathing in soft moans. The sensation was so good, Dinesh's lips on his skin kissing, sucking and teasing, Gilfoyle only noticed his head was past the neck and down his chest when had to move down to grab a handful of hair.  

     "Dinesh?", Gilfoyle called again, suddenly staring at the ceiling.  

     "Yeah?"  

     "Are you going to blow me?"  

    He doesn't answer, so Gilfoyle looks down. Dinesh's face was buried in the trail of hair on his stomach. 

     "...yeah?" He placed a kiss on a soft tissue that showed Gilfoyle's tendencies to have a beer for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner.  

     "Sure. I'm always up for a blowjob, but you know you don't have to, right?"  

     "Yeah, I know, I know. I want to?" 

     "Why do you sound like you're asking me if you want to do this? You're licking my belly button for some time, so thought I may check. It's not bad, but probably not as erotic as you think." 

     "Sorry, I have no idea what I'm doing here." 

     "I know." 

     "Sorry." 

     "Stop saying sorry, dude, or I'm going to lose my shit." 

     His head finally left that place on his stomach and looked up. It's a relief, actually. Dinesh's face was like sandpaper. But maybe aftershaves are a topic for another day, one where he isn't fighting his way through a blowjob while his hard cock is pressed against a very sexually confused and even more sexually immature man's chest.  

     "I can walk you through it. Tell you what to do."  

     Dinesh's eyebrows joined in a way Gilfoyle already knows it's uncertain, but affirmative. He looks cute when his face did that. 

     "Isn't it going to be weird? I guess it will be weird anyway, but having you commenting on it must be at another level of weird." 

     "Honestly, it would be really hot for me. I’m in." 

     "Okay. Let's do it, then." 

     "Just... Do whatever feels natural to you, it's a blowjob, not many ways to get it wrong. Go slow. I know your people are used to swallowing swords, but don't try deepthroating, this isn't porn, you’re probably going to gag. And keep your teeth out of the way. Don't fucking bite my dick or I will definitely lose my shit. You're a very bity person. You can make a chew toy out of me whenever you want and I'll probably be into it, but don't bite my dick, Dinesh. Please." 

     "I know I can't bite your dick, Gilfoyle, but now I'm really tempted to." 

     "Hm", he laid down comfortably, moving his legs wide. Dinesh's cock was too heavy to stand up, so he wasn't expecting Gilfoyle to pull that trick, the upwards curve making his dick almost hit Dinesh's chin. He looked down, comically embarrassed by the proximity of Gilfoyle's erection to his face, and back up. Something that reminded a smile played on Gilfoyle's lips as he said: "So, finally we reached this point where I tell you to suck my dick and you're actually going to do it." 

     "Don't make me regret this." 

     Gilfoyle didn't reply, letting Dinesh figure out he was waiting for him to start. Alright. He looked down again. For a moment too long, Dinesh just stared. Gilfoyle was actually longer when he was hard, but Dinesh still had a way more impressive circumference between his legs. A playful though ran his mind but Gilfoyle didn't share it, about his being also the first red cock Dinesh was seeing in person. Dinesh remembered he was supposed to do something other than just appreciate, so he wrapped a hand around it. He has touched Gilfoyle before, it was not a new sensation to have Dinesh's hand going up and down the length. He leans down, tries giving it a lick over the head. When he tries that again, he also moves his tongue around, something Gilfoyle did to him a few times last night. Then he looked up, searching for Gilfoyle's gaze, and fuck that insecure first-time-tasting-a-cock act was just too much for a guy to handle. 

      Gilfoyle put a hand on the back of his head and pushed him down. Not enough to be forceful, but enough to keep him in place. 

     "Good pick, keep doing this", he commented when remembered he was supposed to let him know how he was doing. 

     A couple more hesitant, but enjoyable movements of Dinesh’s tongue made Gilfoyle close his eyes. 

     Dinesh tried putting his mouth around the head and sucking while jerking what he couldn't take and Gilfoyle's dick twitched. He feels Dinesh instantly pulling away and it was hard not to laugh.  

     "He likes you", Gilfoyle said in a vaguely mocking tone. The part that wasn't mockery, just dirty talk, made Dinesh flustered. "Go on. Dazzle me." 

     It's too much for now to dirty talk back, so Dinesh just complied. He tries that again, putting his mouth around Gilfoyle's warm cock and running his tongue around the head. It took a few more for another involuntary jerk. 

     Gilfoyle told him to go slower when he grew confident enough to start speeding up, and to go faster when Dinesh did slow down and just licked the length with no rush. He changed his mind about the speed a couple times, which was more because he was getting off in ordering him around other than the actual blowjob. The blowjob wasn’t bad – there aren't many ways to get a blowjob  _that_  wrong that it doesn’t feel good -, but telling Dinesh to do things to him and having him actually doing it was what made the whole experience freaking hot. He was sure Dinesh understood it too. Gilfoyle looked for it with his foot until he found Dinesh's cock and the hardness of it showed he was not exactly  _not_ getting off on it too. 

      Once Dinesh picked a good rhythm and stuck to it, it was more than just the bossing around making it freaking hot. It was starting to feel too good for him to remember to give instructions. A long breath escaped his parted lips, a hand closing on Dinesh's soft dark hair. He tilted the head under his tongue, sucking more avid than before, a wet, obscene sound filling Gilfoyle’s ears. Dinesh’s hand was resting way too low on his thigh.  

     "Fuck." Gilfoyle pushed his legs up, suddenly craving for a thing no one did to him in a long time. "Lick my ass." 

     Dinesh's head shot up.  

     "What?"  

     Gilfoyle's eyes were still closed shut, head pushed back on the pillow, wanting that rash stubble between his thighs. "You heard me." As if this changed nothing about the blowjob propose, he opened his legs and bent his knees, knowing he was giving Dinesh quite the view. "Come on. Even with yours almost inexistence sexual experience, you must have eaten an ass before." 

     "I... Actually yes, of course I have. But she wasn't very much into it." 

     "I very much am." 

     Dinesh was still hesitating. Gilfoyle held his legs up for him, so he knew there wasn't a way around it. Dinesh leaned down again. An even longer breath following a soft moan came out as soon as he started. It's been really a long time since he last got to feel that. He wonders if Dinesh's tasting the artificial strawberry from the lube brand they used before or just him when he stops and licks his lips for a moment, taking a hair out of his tongue before coming back. Gilfoyle hissed through his teeth when Dinesh bit his thigh. What a dick. He let go of a knee to have a hand free to jerk himself off faster than demanded from Dinesh's mouth, eagerly moving his hips forward.  

    "That's it", he said at one point, not caring anymore. "Fuck me with your tongue." 

      He learned that Dinesh responded to verbal incentives once his voice made him bury his face further into his ass, moving his tongue inside as farther as he could. Holy Dark Lord, that felt good. It felt even better when he slapped Gilfoyle hand away and replaced it with his own. Gilfoyle's throat made a happy low sound to that, Dinesh trying to mimic the same motion he was doing before, and with now both hands free, Gilfoyle put them behind Dinesh's head and pushed him down.  

    The moment arrived where seemed like Gilfoyle was going to come – his body was beyond control under a wave of pleasure, the spasm making his grip on Dinesh's hair tighter, moaning one single guttural sound so long he would worry later about the other guys being in the house, and pushed his hips forward towards Dinesh's touch in fast motions –, but then he slowed down and down until he stopped. Dinesh also stopped once the body he was touching got motionless and moved up just to be sure. Gilfoyle's breath was erratic, mouth slightly open, eyes closed.  

     "What's wrong? I thought you were into it." 

     Dinesh's voice brought him back. 

     He moved a heavy hand to arrange the glasses, and after a few more groans, opened his eyes, blinking a few times. Dinesh was watching him, hands on each side of his torso, frowning. 

      "Nothing's wrong", Gilfoyle assured him. "I just came two times today, it's probably not going to happen again." 

    "What? Are you saying you can't come more than two times a day?" Dinesh looked skeptic. "This isn't a real thing, Gilfoyle. Come on, you can just say if I suck at sucking dick." 

     "Well, it is a thing for me, not everyone has your teenager hormones. And it was good. You expend so much time licking balls, sucking cock just came naturally to you." 

     "Maybe someday I’ll get to your level", he said it with an arched eyebrow and a smug look that didn’t match at all the compliment he just made. “Fuck!”, Dinesh closed his eyes and shook his head, realizing it didn’t come out as the insult he planned on Gilfoyle’s playful expression. 

      He crawled up on the bed and threw himself at Gilfoyle's side, who just closed his eyes again, lingering for that warm nothingness where he could feel only pleasure. 

     "I will write you a full recommendation based on how good you look with your head between my thighs in your LinkedIn account later", he said. He was feeling sleepy, but not enough not to appreciate taking reactions out of him.  

     "Please don't." 

     "Of course I won't." Gilfoyle yawned. He felt Dinesh pull him closer, moving to put his arms wrapped around his waist. Like everything else, it was weird, but it was nice. "Go back to that thing you were doing in my hair. You can go get that water when I fall asleep."  

     "Sounds like a plan." 

     Both of them wiggled over the sheets until they were locked in a comfortable position, Dinesh snugging his nose on the back of Gilfoyle's head and wrapping their legs together. It was nicer than weird. Dinesh fell asleep first.  

  

 

 

     "What are you doing?"  

     Gilfoyle held Dinesh's hips down and still with force, stopping him from keep rocking up. Dinesh's question came out breathless, an effort to talk in that situation, and frustrated for having to talk in that situation. 

     "You liked it when I did this before, didn't you?", he asked again. Gilfoyle hid his face by placing his forehead on Dinesh's shoulder. 

      "I never had a man this worried about my well-being while being ridden before. But it is possible the men I fucked before you were pricks. Not that you aren't a prick, too. Shit, I have a type." Gilfoyle breathed in and looked Dinesh in the eyes. "It's good when you jackhammer into me, but I'm feeling like this now." 

    "Okay?", Dinesh said in that way that was more of a question than an agreement. He wasn't sure what  _this_  was. He thought they were having sex, and there's only one way he knew how to have sex, but Gilfoyle probably knew more and it made him uneasy just when he thought he may be understanding how to deal with all of this. 

     Dinesh decided to roll with it and put his arms back around Gilfoyle's naked body. He was deep inside of him, the tight feeling around his cock amazing even without friction. He closed his eyes and kissed his shoulder. Gilfoyle smelled like sweat and it was strange to realize that most times they were like this Gilfoyle was sweaty, but he wasn't usually a sweaty guy. He usually smelled like beer and cheap shampoo for greasy hair. The shampoo was still there, under the sweat of a whole day locked inside Dinesh's bedroom fucking, sleeping and fucking again, and he buried his nose in it. He let out a breath when Gilfoyle started pulling out just so slowly it made him dug short nails into his waist. He breathed back in when he pushed down in the same rhythm. 

     They did it like this two times already that day. 

    In the first one, Dinesh came too quickly - it's ages no one let him inside an ass, it felt a lot different from what he's used to, and they foreplayed a lot to get Gilfoyle ready. Dinesh was losing it just for fingering him. Really, he was putting his fingers inside Gilfoyle's asshole there and Gilfoyle was freaking  _loving it_. What the fuck. He had the impression Gilfoyle prepared himself for this before, because he was too clean and didn't complain at all, but he wanted to do it and he was glad Gilfoyle let him take their first time having the kind of sex where someone put it in the other slow. He needed to slow down much more than Gilfoyle did and he was still coming embarrassingly fast. Didn’t help that Gilfoyle’s reaction was to say: “ _What was it? Two, three minutes? It must be a record_ _for_ _both of us, only for opposite reasons.”_  

     The second lasted longer. Gilfoyle said he didn’t trust Dinesh to set the rhythm again and pushed him on his back, climbing on top. His hair bounced when he jumped up and down his cock and Dinesh had no idea why that was the thing he was focusing on. Maybe because it was easier than to stare at his dick also bouncing right there, on his stomach, so easy to just touch. Gilfoyle said he was close a couple times, but didn't came. Dinesh felt pretty unfit about it. Probably picking up on his worries, Gilfoyle told him it was normal, people usually don't come just for bottoming, and it would help if Dinesh touched his dick in the middle of it next time. He remembered wanting to, but being too embarrassed, and cursed his long-term jitters when it comes to sex to himself. 

     He finished himself off the first time, one of his hands groping Dinesh's ass, and the slippery head of his cock touching his stomach every time he thrust forwards. He pulled away not to come over Dinesh in the last second, who was just kissing his collarbones, not really touching anything. After the other one, Gilfoyle just closed his eyes and slept. Dinesh helped when they were making out later and it was just hands and mouths. Gilfoyle slept for an hour after his second orgasm and Dinesh watched him, replaying in his head the way he pushed his head down the pillow and climbed onto him, at a loss of control over the feeling of Dinesh's hand on his dick making him come. It was a sight printed on his eyelids every time he closed his eyes. 

     The sight now wasn't bad either. Shit, he has always been skeptical about intoxicating, seeing stars, being made nuts by the other person kind of sex, but he was starting to think he has been tricked his whole life and this is how sex should have felt since the beginning. Maybe he is gay, after all, because he was never this lost into it. Sex for him used to be a mean to ejaculation, not ejaculation a consequence of hot sex. Or maybe it's just Gilfoyle. Dinesh still isn't convinced he doesn’t have some Satanist powers as he wiggles his hips on his lap and Dinesh hold onto him hard. It should be ridiculous to see Gilfoyle wiggle any part of his body, and he actually isn't the most skillful partner he had doing that on his dick, but the eye-locked thing has an intimacy to it that gets him off more than watching him bounce on it eager, fast and somehow  _furious_  as before. 

     Gilfoyle put their foreheads together and pushed Dinesh deeper into him, all the way to the base, and pressed down until he let a soft cry against Dinesh's nose and open mouth. Then he got up and sunk down again. Dinesh kissed his cheek and held him close until he knew that when they broke apart, he would be covered with Gilfoyle's sticky body hair and Gilfoyle in his. It's still hot, but it's also tender, and they never fucked like this. Oh,  _this._  That's what he meant before. 

     They kiss and the movements stop for a moment. Dinesh isn't sure everything else hasn't stopped too. When the kiss ends, Gilfoyle gave him a look Dinesh isn't entirely comfortable around, but he thinks he can grow into it, and watch him give away the grip on his shoulders to lean on his knees and start pushing up and down, setting a pace. It's still way slower than all they have done so far, but not so much of a quietly  _being there_  as before. Gilfoyle must really like him, Dinesh caught himself thinking, staring at those light brown cat eyes. He had weird teeth. Always had. Rounded, not straight, and slightly apart. Like an herbivorous. He recalls Gilfoyle telling him he was a vegetarian in college and went full vegan for three years, but then everybody was a vegan and it was a capitalistic appropriation of a cause and a pretentious white middle-class thing, so he stopped because of course he would, and he thinks he really likes Gilfoyle too. 

     He licks his nipple, not so sure they're even sensitive, but he was used to going for nipples while having sex. Gilfoyle hums into in and his whole body feels liquid in Dinesh's arms. He's coming apart. Takes Dinesh a few seconds to realize it wasn't the nipple foreplay. 

     "Is this...?" 

     "Mhmm." His voice drags it out, somehow helpless, and Dinesh adjusts himself so he can keep hitting his prostate. He had trouble finding it before, but he's determinate to keep in place now and resist the urge to pound in and out fast until he's coming again. He is into  _this_ too, wants to make  _this_  last. Gilfoyle opened his mouth, but no sound came out, just a deep crease between his brows and his eyes closing so hard his face wrinkled. A quick breath and a low, but lingering moan came next. Dinesh put his hand behind his head just to run his fingers through his scalp, but ended up pushing so Gilfoyle wasn't facing the ceiling anymore, but coming down to meet his eyes. His brow furrowed deeply again and he looked desperate, moving to hold onto Dinesh's shoulders. 

      Dinesh pushed into the spot in a fast thrust Gilfoyle wasn't prepared to and he let out a high, loud moan that was different from any sound Dinesh ever heard him make before. 

     He knows he said he may be in love with him before, but Dinesh is sure he loves him since the first time Gilfoyle insulted his work after he woke up in Gilfoyle's bed with him on his chest, tracing the vaccine scar on his upper arm with his fingers, asking him where he got that from. And he could have said it now, that he loved him, if it wouldn't be so fucking cliché Gilfoyle would probably laugh in his face and be a big asshole about it. Or maybe not. Maybe he would like it. Dinesh also didn't know he could get that far gone when he had a cock on his spot, so he settled with knowing shit about this part of Gilfoyle's life. He decided to go with what feels natural to him, taking an advice Gilfoyle gave him earlier. It was a surprisingly good advice. Dinesh moved his legs to accommodate him better and placed a kiss on his lips before pushing in. That high sound was back, but Gilfoyle must have noticed how embarrassing he sounded and bit his lip to stop. Dinesh was not having him holding back after he had a taste of what get him off was like, so he held Gilfoyle's thighs and pushed in harder. He breathed in, closing his eyes and biting his lip with force. When Dinesh did it again, he let go and moaned. 

     Dinesh heard it more than he felt it, at first. That low moan, followed by a broken grunt weirdly divided into parcels, like his laugh, coming out of Gilfoyle's throat. Dinesh pulled away from his shoulder when felt two hands squeezing him so tight it hurt a little. Gilfoyle looked at him and it was just like before; the head was thrown back, semi-closed eyes and lips, a loss of control, but it was also bigger. Dinesh touched his dick and pumped a few times before he was watching Gilfoyle come undone with a cry that was new on his ears. Just when he was thinking he has seen and heard everything. Dinesh isn't surprised when that sound triggered his own orgasm and he pushes in and out faster for himself, feeling Gilfoyle's come on his fingers as he jerks him off. Dinesh comes with a single, regular moan. 

     Gilfoyle opened his eyes, lips apart, and shut them when he caught the way Dinesh was looking at him. There's a fog in his eyes that slowly fade away. Gilfoyle moves so Dinesh slides off of him, but keeps sitting on his lap. 

     "That was..." 

     "Yes", Gilfoyle agreed, even if he doesn't know what Dinesh was going to say. 

     "I think we broke your... Your rule thing", he said, vaguely remembering it, but is so intrinsic to their exchange of words to look for the first place in the podium Dinesh can't help himself. 

     "What?" Gilfoyle's hands traced circles over his skin. 

     "You said you couldn't come more than twice a day. That was a third." The hands stop moving, that fog leaving Gilfoyle's eyes. "You also said you don't come from being fucked." 

     There's a moment of silence and Dinesh's almost worried that he shouldn't have said that, but he's doing what feels natural to him, so he will stand by it. The hand resume moving on his skin and he leaned towards the touch. 

     "Congratulations", Gilfoyle said. It looked like he was going to say something else, but he didn't. He reached down to take the condom out of Dinesh's cock and threw it away. When he talked again, Dinesh knew it wasn't what he was going to say before, but he was okay with that too. "I'm going to take another nap. You in?" 

     "Sure." 

     They laid down and Dinesh put a blanket over them, crawling into Gilfoyle's chest. He saw some curled hair loose on his chest, glued to his skin with sweat, that he recognized by belonging to himself. He took those off one by one just because until he fell asleep feeling Gilfoyle's breath on his forehead. 

 

 

 

     "What are you doing?" 

     "Oh shit, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." 

     The room was pitch black apart from the light coming from Dinesh's 3DS, shooting colored patterns over his face. So, it was nighttime already. Gilfoyle groaned, rolling over to get away from the light. He tried to go back to sleep, and was almost falling back into the arms of unconsciousness when he heard it again. A stuffed laugh. 

      Gilfoyle gave up and rolled back. 

     "Are you watching Seinfeld?" 

     Dinesh's face already answered that. He was finding something freaking hilarious in his portable. He clicked the display, pausing it, and took off an earphone. 

     "Did you say something?" 

     "Why the fuck are you watching Seinfeld? Go to sleep!", he groaned, this time frustrated. 

     "We slept for five hours, I'm not tired. You slept more than me, I don't know how you are still tired? It's like you're hibernating or some shit. Fuck! You  _are_ a bear, aren't you?" 

     Gilfoyle blinked, having no idea what he was trying to hint with that, but not interested enough to argue. "I thought this was supposed to be a stay-in-bed-and-fuck-and-sleep weekend. We fucked, so now I sleep." 

     "Classy", his tone was full of mockery, but Gilfoyle was still not interested enough to argue. He shifted closer to Dinesh. "I ordered pizza." 

     "Good, I'm starving. Where is it?" 

      Dinesh pointed the nightstand and Gilfoyle sat up to take the box. He opened it to see that Dinesh already ate half. He put all his onions in Gilfoyle's side. Gilfoyle does like onions. He took a slice and scooched to snug against the man's arm, taking one earphone out of his ear without asking and putting on his own. He caught Dinesh giving him a questioning look, but he didn't care and fill his stomach with food for the first time all day. Well, almost all day. Dinesh brought granola bars and Cheetos when he went out to fetch water. Gilfoyle wasn't allowed to go out of the room, since apparently people thought he wasn't in the house. 

     "You're a cuddler", Dinesh said, dragging the words as if he was singing them. 

     "You have a problem with that?" 

      "No, no. Just unexpected." 

     They didn't plan to do what they're doing. They didn't even plan to take the weekend in and maybe they aren't doing that, but the bed was nice and neither of them wanted to get out. It's like they are merging. It takes time. 

     Gilfoyle was not surprised anyone called the police on his disappearing. Dinesh would probably be the one calling the cops if he vanished for a whole day without answering his phone, and Dinesh was holding his knee as he ate pizza and they watched an awful episode of an awful sitcom. Erlich vanished and no one called the cops anyway, so he wasn't taking it personally. 

     Something stupid happened and Dinesh laughed, not bothering to hold it in since Gilfoyle was already up. 

     "What?", he asked, on edge with sudden self-consciousness, but still puzzled once he noticed Gilfoyle had his chin on his shoulder and was looking at him other than the screen. 

      "Your taste for bad American TV amuses me. Also, your laugh", the other said. 

      "It isn't bad just because you don't like it, you know? And what about my laugh?" And now all he was self-conscious. 

      "There's no point in holding this information now, so..." Gilfoyle sighed. "I like your stupid laugh. That's how sappy I grew to be, apparently. Hope you're proud of yourself, asshole."        

     He seemed more shocked than proud initially, then squeezed his eyes and frowned, maybe suspecting Gilfoyle was somehow making fun of him and he just didn't get it yet. Gilfoyle took a bite of his cold pizza. 

     "Shut up", he said. 

      They watched the show in silence, and Dinesh didn't laugh again. Actually, no one was watching the show anymore. Gilfoyle had his head towards it, but was watching Dinesh squirm and look past the screen. He may have broken him. They have been doing alright all day, maybe the freaking out part was coming now. Gilfoyle has been preparing himself for it. He knew it was inevitable. 

     Dinesh paused the episode and took the earphone off. 

      "Did you meant it?" 

     "What?" He knows what, he just doesn't want to get down that road. There's a limit to how sappy he can be and it's usually none. Dinesh didn't say it again, just played a game with his eyebrows that told Gilfoyle to stop fucking around. "Yeah. Do you want to get it on tape and masturbate to it? I like your laugh. It sounds nice. There." 

     "What else? What else do you like about me?" 

     "How I could easily smother you with a pillow and you wouldn't be able to fight back and I wouldn't feel nothing as I offer your soul to Satan." Dinesh's eyebrows were accusing him again. "No one likes compliment fishing, Dinesh." 

     "I'm not fishing, I'm just..." He trailed off and scratched the side of his forehead. "Forget it", and put the earphone back and hit play. 

     Gilfoyle weighted if it was worth to get this out of depth to make him feel better, and realized, not for the first time in the past months, that he would do anything to make him feel better. He paused the video and yanked the earphone out of Dinesh's ear so hard he made and  _outch_ _!_  

"I may also like the stupid way you speak." 

      Dinesh's eyes opened wide and he crossed his arms, curled up around himself. He was not used to anyone saying good things about him, and surely not Gilfoyle, but he still seemed to think this must be a trap and that's just unacceptable. 

     "What, my accent?" No, but Gilfoyle doesn't get to say it because he kept going: "First of all, rude, my accent it's not stupid and I already lost most of it". It is a herculean effort not jump on that line, so Gilfoyle held back a smirk and filed that information to tell him later that sometimes he sounds like racists caricatures are accurate. "Second of all, that's barely a compliment. That's a statement about how people who are not native English speakers speak English. And I'm not sure but it does feel a bit racist too, so I'm going with it. Dude, that's racist." 

      He was not even annoyed that Dinesh was calling out his racism – which he knows exists, but in a subtler way than the usual offensive shit he says to annoy him –, but curious about how far he could run to get out of a sincere compliment. 

     "I couldn't care less about how middle eastern people speak English." You had to draw everything with that guy. Dinesh was too much work. "Although, if you're looking for a race-based compliment to piss on me, sometimes when the sun is bright enough it's like you're golden. It's a stunning effect. Makes me want to lick your sweat off your skin." 

     Now he was sure he broke Dinesh. 

     It was too dark to have proof, but Gilfoyle had a strong feeling that his ears and neck were red. Dinesh was about to say something stupid next, he knows it too. 

     "That's gross", he breathed out. 

      "I'm a gross person." Because the curtain was raised and he felt like teasing now, Gilfoyle leaned his head on Dinesh's shoulder, looking for his neck with his tongue. Dinesh didn't draw away, just briefly flinched when he pulled the skin with his teeth. He shifted over the mattress, throwing the 3DS somewhere in the sheets without looking, occupied with what Gilfoyle was doing on his neck. They shared an open-mouthed kiss and slid down until they were laying, legs wrapped together and hands traveling along bodies, squeezing and caressing. 

     Gilfoyle's stomach groaned and they stopped moving. Dinesh loses the embrace around his waist so they could look at one another. 

     "Different from your previous inflatable sex buddies, I need food and rest." Gilfoyle turned to grab the pizza box. 

      "Yeah, and I don't have to wash you when I'm done, so that's a plus. Although, I miss being able to just fold you and put you back in a box." 

     "And give away all of our enjoyable pillow talk?" 

     "I don't know if you treating on smothering me with a pillow counts as pillow talk. Maybe it is to you and  _your_ previous sex buddies?" 

     "Pretty much", Gilfoyle said with his mouth full, shoulders moving up in an uninterested way. He felt more than he saw in the dark and without his glasses that Dinesh was palming the bed looking for the 3DS. Something fell to the ground and he cursed, but didn't get up to rescue it. 

     Gilfoyle could sense a question in the air. He praised Lucifer for not being another session of insecure Dinesh hungry for validation like an old dog go through the plastic bags in the garbage. He can't handle too much of it and he's really trying to be pleasant. Well, he's taking a poetic license to what means to be pleasant. 

      "How many people have you slept with?" 

      Gilfoyle took another bite of the pizza. That was still insecure Dinesh, but guess every Dinesh was insecure as much as he was a selfish dick, those two things combined being the core of his existence. As far as topics go, it wasn't the worst choice. 

     "Are we counting only penetrative sex, or handjobs and blowjobs too?" 

     "Whatever you think counted as sex." It was a surprisingly mature answer. He was counting on Dinesh only valuing sticking his dick into something. 

     Gilfoyle has to sit on that for a moment shorter than the other expected. 

     "Eight", Gilfoyle answered with a mouthful of pizza. He doesn't have to see past the dark to know Dinesh is staring at him with that skeptical, dumb, open-mouthed expression. 

     "Apart from me?" The shape of him moved to support himself on an elbow. 

     "Nope. Counting you." 

     "Wha... No shit!". He wasn't laughing, too surprised to find it anything other than revealing at the moment. Gilfoyle felt like he was ripping the guy out of a role model there. "I was kinda expecting double digits, you know?" 

     "I know." Of course he was. 

      Dinesh waited until Gilfoyle grabbed another slice in the box to talk again. "I'm six, in case you're wondering", he spits it out, as smug and full of himself as only knowing he was neck and neck with Gilfoyle in a race could make him. 

      "I wasn't." 

     "If you include the rest, blowjobs and handjobs, what is it?" 

     Gilfoyle sighed. He wasn't embarrassed, he just didn't like that Dinesh was that much of a dick to be having fun getting personal stuff out of him to feel better about himself other than just appreciating their sharing for what it was. It could be tiring to be always running for the first place with the guy, he could use a break. 

     "Eight", he repeated and Dinesh didn't say anything else for a long pause. He finished the slice and Dinesh was still silent. Maybe Gilfoyle should say something. "You have slept with more people than me and you're wondering how come I'm still much better at sex." Dinesh kept silent, so he knew he hit the jackpot. Or at least close enough for shutting him up for good. "I was in three long-term relationships in my life, hence the absence of double digits. I still had more sex than you, only with the same eight people." 

      "I didn't know that. About your other relationships, I mean. Only Tara. But yeah, thinking about it, that did last a while." 

     Gilfoyle hummed and started licking his fingers sticky with cheese. Would it compromise the fake disappearing if he ran to the bathroom really quick to wash his hands? 

     "Were all of them open?", asked Dinesh. 

     "Not all of them." Great, they're entering the feelings territory. Just great. Fuck this. "The first was closed. He was my senior in high school. He played guitar, I played bass, we made angry music, shitty programs and smoke weed. His older brother found out we were fucking in math camp and beat the shit out of him. Apparently, not all Canadians are that nice." He tried to tell Justin he would fucking murder his brother with his bare hands, but Justin was too scared to even look in Gilfoyle's direction again. His brother did try to kill Gilfoyle, or at least fifteen years old him was pretty sure the guy was going to kill him. During two months, he locked himself in the bathroom for hours after class. He even asked his mother to pick him up every day. It was about then that he decided fucking boys was too much work and he should stick to girls. People are jerks. 

     He considered Dinesh for a second. His history with longing men must be a lot worse than a white middle-class Canadian boy, he almost felt like he hadn't the right to feel sorry for Justin. But then he remembers Dinesh's parents are freaking rich, and literate, and the guy has a ton of degrees and went to private schools for little genius his whole life. Shit, he had  _servants_ in Pakistan. There's the subtle racism. Maybe he's a jerk too. No. Of course he is a jerk too. 

     Dinesh threw another question in the mix. 

     "How many of those eight were guys?" 

     "Four. It's pretty even, I haven't realized before." Guess it's  _meeting Gilfoyle's sex history_ hour. Thank Satan it isn't that long, he's not thrilled by doing that all night. "You, the high school goth boyfriend, that social media we met in FutureStack and a guy in college. Jeong was just hand stuff." 

     "Who was the guy in college?" 

      "Nothing interesting, just a one-night stand out of a weird threesome", he snorted in the dark and lied down, unconsciously looking for Dinesh's arm to use as a pillow, and wondered if Dinesh was familiar with founding threesomes uninteresting things. "I was with my college girlfriend, then. He was a part of our Satanist group study. She said he was into me, and I hadn't been with a guy since high school, so I was pretty much eager to get on his dick. We were drinking in her apartment and she suggested we fuck. It seemed like a fine idea. I knew she was fucking other people, but I wasn't, so it would be nice for a number of reasons. Turns out he was actually into her it was more like him fucking her with me in the room. The most awkward shit I was ever in, and once Tara's pet snake was in the bed with us." 

     Dinesh laughed and Gilfoyle let himself smile. It was indeed a nice sound, Dinesh laughing, his chest going up and down beneath his hand. He may be more in love with that man than he was comfortable with. 

     "Wait", Dinesh said as he ran his fingers through Gilfoyle's arm. "Why do you count him, if you didn't fuck that guy?" 

     "Oh, I did. I told her to get lost because it was my turn. He fucked my brains out. And he let me fuck him too, so there's that." Dinesh's hand suddenly stiffened. Gilfoyle sighed. "Dinesh, it's fine if you don't want me to fuck you. You really don't have to think about it now. I like this." 

     "I like this too", he said muffled on Gilfoyle's skin, then placed a kiss over his words. "Weird that you keep getting into open relationships where she is having fun and you're just sulking." 

     "I don't sulk". He did, but Dinesh wasn't going to argue through that. "And is more like an independence thing. Monogamy and marriage are ownership-based systems. I don’t own any of my partners. I believe relationships are supposed to add, not to be a burden. I appreciate knowing they're with me because they want me, not because they have a social contract or feel obligated to be bound to me. I usually stick to the person I've chosen, but it doesn't mean the independence isn't important." And usually it was the other way around, him sticking to the person who chose him, because he isn't nice or good-looking or rich, and as much as he denies it, he has a shit ton of  _feelings_  and he needs someone to want him, even if they want other people too. He's just as desperate for it as Dinesh. Maybe the difference is that Dinesh is honest about his need for intimacy, while Gilfoyle hides his behind fancy social theories. "Any more questions?", he asked. 

     "Did you love all of them?" 

      _Oh, fuck me._  

     "Don't make questions you don't want the hear the answer to, Dinesh." 

     "So yes?" 

     Gilfoyle huffed. "I suppose, at some point. Some more than others." Then he as thinking about this for himself, not just to satisfy Dinesh's curiosity or stroke his ego. "The first and last more. Justin and Tara. Justin was shit for a while. Tara just dried out." 

      "I haven't", Dinesh was suddenly saying, some rush in his voice, like he struggled with getting the words out. "Being in love, I mean. I haven't... Before you." 

       Gilfoyle had no clue about what someone was expected to say to that, so he just kept quiet. He felt a sting of panic, but also thrill. 

      "One more", said Dinesh in the quiet room. 

      "Shoot it." 

      "What did you have on your phone?" 

     Gilfoyle snorted, then turned his head around to look for his contours in the dark. "I knew this was going to eat you inside." 

      "Come ooon", he complained, childishly shaking Gilfoyle's shoulders. "Tell me." 

     "I already told you. It wasn't what I had in there, it was the principle." Even if Gilfoyle couldn't see Dinesh's face right, he was sure he was staring at him with a judgmental pout. "Hm, mainly Tara's nudes. She sent them to me, I didn't want to leak." 

      "Oh." Dinesh stopped pushing his shoulders. "You could have told me that, I would understand." 

      "I also have some pictures of you I use to masturbate." 

      "WHAT THE-" Dinesh noticed they weren't supposed to make noises since they had housemates and lowered his voice. " _Are you serious?!_ ", he tried again. Gilfoyle moved his shoulders and shrugged it off. It was a half-truth. He had personal stuff in there he didn't want anyone to look at, but he figured that information was going to get Dinesh's attention and stop him from keep asking. He was right on that. Dinesh was struggling to find words to comment. "That's not-… Holy shit! I... No, wait. That's actually flattering? I'm flattered. What ones did you choose? Or you're the kind of creep that would take pictures of me when I'm not looking?" 

       Gilfoyle shrugged it off again, not interested in continuing satisfying Dinesh's thirst for validation. He would rather just show him his validation. Gilfoyle kicked the pizza box off the bed and came to stride him. 

       "I want to see what pictures of me you use to masturbate." 

       Gilfoyle flicked his tongue in frustration. "Why? If you want to imagine me masturbating, I could just do it now and kill your curiosity." He pressed his dick on Dinesh's thigh. 

        Dinesh looked at him for a moment, static, and after a blink was fast moving under Gilfoyle and reaching for the phone over the nightstand. A rush of protectiveness that was nowhere near the panic from last time, but was dangerously close to breaking the niceness of that whole day, took over his body and Gilfoyle grabbed his arm. Dinesh cursed and tried to shoot an elbow in, saying something about that being stupid, but Gilfoyle just held him from under the armpit and moved his knees to immobilize him. 

       "You haven't learned anything, have you?" He asked while Dinesh struggled to break free. 

      And suddenly they were wrestling. Gilfoyle would have worried that they were unable to go through a whole day without fighting, but Dinesh was laughing. That sound unarmed his tight grip on him for a moment that was just long enough for Dinesh to put his legs around Gilfoyle's hips and push him sideways into the bed. In an impressive fluid motion, he climbed on top of him and pushed Gilfoyle's biceps down. 

      They stared into one another faces, breathing fast from the short fight, then Dinesh leaned in and kissed him. Gilfoyle would give him his phone on a plate. 

       "Wait", Dinesh said once the kiss grew past just a kiss and they were humping their erections together. "Are we fucking now? Do you want me to fuck you?" 

       Gilfoyle frowned and shook his head. That man had a way with words that was beyond clumsy. 

       "Surprisingly, yes ", he sighed and pushed him back by the neck, but Dinesh resisted and sat up. "What are you...? Dinesh, put my fucking phone down right now or I sweat to...!" 

      "This is mine!", he answered in an urgent whisper, and shook the phone in his direction to show the wallpaper. It was some random colored pattern. Definitely not Gilfoyle's. Gilfoyle's wallpaper was a black goat. Fuck, does he have a goat problem? "God, relax. Maybe you should be fucking your phone, right? Shoving it up your ass and putting it on vibrate? Creep." 

       He didn't comment on the idea and watched Dinesh flittering with his phone. "Okay. Maybe I will, at least I would be getting fucked. What are you doing?" 

       "Eager for my dick, aren't you?" He was smiling, full of himself. "Richard and Jared are in the living room with Monica. I'll just put on some music so they won't hear us." 

       Dinesh chose something and came back to lied down. Gilfoyle didn't recognize it right away, but before Dinesh could come back to the making-out, he pushed his chest and gave him a long stare. 

       "You're kidding me", he said. "You want to fuck me to the sound of fucking Blondie." 

      "I think they would notice if suddenly Napalm Death or Cannibal Corpse was coming out of my bedroom." 

      "…You remembered. I'm surprised." 

      "With names like that, how could I forget?" 

      Gilfoyle snorted. He pushed Dinesh off enough so he could sit up and picked his phone from the nightstand. He went through Dinesh's playlists and chose some Roxy. At least that he could stand hearing. Not that he would mind much when Dinesh's playlist set on shuffle found Blondie again ten minutes later, too occupied with more important things to mind the irony of Heart of Glass playing. 

 

 

 

     "What are you doing?!" 

      Dinesh lost an Item Box he was aiming for in Mario Kart's beach road. Gilfoyle's hand was on his cock. 

      Gilfoyle shrugged, an empty expression on his face when Dinesh took his eyes off the 3DS screen and glimpsed at him. "Fuck", he cursed, a shell hitting his kart, and went back to the game. Gilfoyle's fingers moved. "This is... This is so fucking low of you. Stop it!" 

      "You want me to stop touching your dick while you play videogames? Isn't this your bigger nerd fantasy?" 

      "You're trying to distract me", Dinesh accused him, moving his legs to try to ease his erection, determined in maintaining at least the second place. He needed the second place to beat Gilfoyle's score. "You know I'm going to win this." 

       "I'm giving you an excuse for losing. You know you can't win." He detached his back to the wall and placed a kiss under Dinesh's ear. Involuntarily, Dinesh tilted his head to give him more space. His mouth opened and he bumped into Wario's kart when Gilfoyle's other hand pinched his nipple through the shirt. "Why am I not surprised you have sensible nipples?" 

       "Probably because you jerk off thinking about my hot and  _golden_  body so much you've covered all possibilities. Yes, I remember, you said it, I'm not letting you forget." 

       "Go ahead, I'm not embarrassed. You're the repressed one." Gilfoyle ran a hand through his chest, letting his palm linger rubbing against Dinesh's nipple. He was not used to be touched like that. It was somehow embarrassing, to be that excited about been touched where guys weren’t usually touched by women. “What a crime it is that I touch myself thinking of you.” Hearing Gilfoyle saying that on his ear had an even more confusing place in the line between embarrassing and exciting. 

        "I'm not repressed", he said, but his voice was starting to faint. "I'm just normal, unlike you, that probably has disgusting sex habits." 

      "The most disgusting sex habit I have if fucking you. Wait", Gilfoyle moved his head away enough so Dinesh could glimpse at him again when he hit a straight part of the road. "Are you trying to distract me out of distracting you by giving you a handjob?" 

      "Ha!" He shouted, victorious. "So, you admit you're trying to distract me because I'm sooo much better than you at this game. " 

      For a moment Gilfoyle said nothing, his hand still on Dinesh's chest, the other around his half-hard cock, but he wasn't moving anymore. He let go and Dinesh breathed hard, relieved, happy to be able to concentrate on the task at hand. Then he was frowning. Did he just pass on a handjob out of winning a Mario Kart race? 

      Through the corner of his eye, he saw Gilfoyle reaching for the food and supplies he brought from the kitchen so they wouldn't have to get out of the room often. He took the menthol drops, Dinesh's fast replacement for toothpaste once he noticed Gilfoyle did not have a nice morning breath and no, he couldn't go to the bathroom. He joked Dinesh was trying to make him his sex slave. 

      Gilfoyle put a couple drops in his mouth and he was reemerging in Dinesh's field of vision, kneeling on the bed in front of him. 

       "Don't mind me", he said, noticing Dinesh trying and failing to concentrate on the game with Gilfoyle naked in front of him. He has been seeing him naked all weekend, but Dinesh is still not used to it. And he's definitely not used to Gilfoyle masturbating in front of him. What the fuck. 

       "You're an asshole", he said between gripped teeth, casting glances up at Gilfoyle, who was lazily stroking himself in front of him. He spread Dinesh’s knees and leaned down, pressing his face against Dinesh's thigh. "So, so much of an asshole." His hand came into his shirt and he was running his short nails through his chest. Dinesh put his arms up, both because Gilfoyle's head was in the way of the screen and because the other needed the space to keep going. 

      "Yes", was the only thing he said before going for Dinesh's pants; the button opened easily this time. Dinesh got dressed earlier to go in the kitchen and they hadn't done anything other than chat and play videogames to get his clothes off again. There was a cold, burning sensation when Gilfoyle blew air on the sensitive skin under his belly button. It was the drops. 

       "Fuck. I hate you." 

       "You really know how to get a guy going." 

      "Suck my dick. No, wait- I mean... Shit! That's not what I was..." 

      “So, you  _don’t_  want me to suck your dick? Are you sure you’re going with this?” Dinesh replied nothing, his eyes glued to the 3DS screen. “That’s what I thought.” 

       Gilfoyle pulled his pants and underwear down and Dinesh's cock bobbled between them. He was already rock hard. He was not good at holding himself back when someone was trying to get him hard. Shit, the idea that someone wanted him to get hard was usually enough to get him hard. He could get too nervous to actually keep his erection on, but there was something familiar about Gilfoyle that worked past his nerves. 

      Dinesh flinched, Gilfoyle's breath with those menthol drops a weird sensation on his skin. He held the base of his cock to keep it up and circled his tongue around the head. Gilfoyle did that a lot when he gave blowjobs. It burned cold. 

        His fingers found Dinesh's nipple again and he was doing those same circling movements there, a thumb pressing and teasing. Dinesh breathed out and put a hand on the back of his head for a moment, but then fucking Luigi just passed his first place and he grabbed the 3DS back. It was stupid to care about winning that game when Gilfoyle was just sucking his dick in there, wasn't it? Fuck. 

       "Don't stop!", he complained instinctively when that cold and burning tongue left. Dinesh looked down and Gilfoyle was smirking. 

       "Eager for my mouth, aren't you?" 

       "Go fuck yourself." He recognized those words and he didn't like the mocking, but it wasn't making him any less hard. 

       "Why when I can just do you?" 

       He let out a cry of protest when Gilfoyle pulled his legs and spread them open, surprised by the sudden movement. It was easier for him to get his pants off. Gilfoyle pushed his shirt up, but Dinesh was not letting go of the videogame for him to take it off too. It didn't stop him from playing with his tongue around his chest and nipples again before going back down and swallowing his cock. Dinesh let out a moan and he started moving up and down faster. Pushing his knees up again, forcing Dinesh to almost lay fully on his back, Gilfoyle played with his balls in his mouth. He let go of the video game again to make a fist around his hair, hissing through his teeth to that cold, burning sensation. 

       "Holy shit!", Dinesh threw the 3DS to the side and held Gilfoyle's head with both his hands. "God, you fucker..." 

       He was smirking up at him again, full of himself, the jerk. He brushed his beard along the inside of Dinesh's thigh and stroked his cock, then Dinesh felt a finger rubbing his asshole. He wasn't pushing inside, just tracing those damn circles around it, teasing him, and then he was moving his tongue over his cock in the same motions. 

       Dinesh pushed forward and moaned a long breath when Gilfoyle pushed his finger inside of him. He had done it two times before, but it felt different.  _A lot_  different. A lot different from everything, really. He let a surprised sound out and it must have hint Gilfoyle, because next thing he knows he was pushing his finger up towards that feeling, pressing down hard and pounding into it as he put his mouth around the head of Dinesh’s cock and jerked him off fast. Dinesh jumped, cursing a  _shit_  aloud and making a fist on Gilfoyle’s hair as he came in his mouth. 

        Dinesh lowered his legs and let himself spread on the bed, eyes closed. He felt Gilfoyle sitting on his side. 

      "That was fast. Even for you." Well,  _prick_ _,_ try having a menthol flavored jackass sucking you off and fingering you while you play fucking Mario Kart. “First time you had your prostate massaged?” 

       He opened his eyes. 

       “Of course it was”, Gilfoyle was smirking again, but it looked more like a smile this time. He ran his palm up and down his leg. “I forgot you only had boring missionary sex with the lights off before. I would have savored this moment longer if I had remembered, but I guess you wouldn’t last anyway. Now you’ll know what to expect when the doctor bends you over.” 

      "Sorry for, hm...” He didn’t know if he was there yet with commenting on how it felt to have Gilfoyle finger on asshole pounding against his prostate, so he changed the subject: “Not warning you. I wasn't expecting it either." 

      "That's fine. I don't mind." 

       "Why it doesn't surprise me that you like cum shots?" 

        "Well, you said before I was a whore." 

      "Did I?" Dinesh moved on his side to look at him better and frowned. 

       "At Keenan's." 

       "Oh. Yeah." He palmed the bed until he found the 3DS and threw it into Gilfoyle's lap. He was cleaning his beard with a tissue from a box Dinesh brought from the bathroom that morning and looked flatty at the thing before taking it. 

       "Fuck. Fuck you", he cursed once he saw Dinesh still beat his score. “Fuck. You.” 

         

 

 

     "What are you doing?!" 

     Gilfoyle turned around when he heard the rush of panic in Dinesh's voice behind his back. He was standing at the door, holding Gilfoyle's phone charger – what Gilfoyle asked him to go get -, and a bottle of pills – which he has no idea why, but he didn’t really care for that now, because he was currently in front of Dinesh's closet going through a red suitcase full of jewelry. 

      "Why are you messing with- Shit! Put that back!" He threw the stuff he was holding on the bed and closed the door, his voice still doing those fast, pitched whispers that sounded like quiet screams. Dinesh rushed to get to him and Gilfoyle just couldn't retain a spaced, devilish laugh. 

      "Is this what I think it is?" 

      "Put it back!" 

       "You know we passed through hell to get funded, right? And you were just sitting on a suitcase full of gold like some dragon all along? What the hell, Dinesh?" 

       "This is not-!" Dinesh stopped, sighting, defeat written all over his facial expression. He quit wrestling Gilfoyle on the suitcase. "I have no idea how much money you think this is worth, but it’s barely half of it. And I'm not selling my freaking dowry to give the money to Richard, that's not how it works! I can't believe you were shitting on me for wanting to see what's on your phone and as soon as I turn my back, you start snooping around my stuff! Unbelievable." 

      "I was looking for clean bedsheets, I just found cum in my hair. And technically, this is supposed to be mine now, right?" 

       "No. Definitely not." 

      "Are you holding on to it for your bride?" 

     Dinesh ran a hand through his face and massaged his temples. "My parents gave it to me, asshole. It's a traditional thing. It's symbolic, it doesn't... Whatever, it's stupid." 

       "You're supposed to buy a woman with this?" 

       Dinesh rolled his eyes. "It's just the  _muqaddam_ _,_ for the first part of the  _Mahr._ If it was the  _mu'akhar_... Why am I explaining this to you? I'm putting this suitcase down your fucking throat!" 

       "And then you wouldn't have a dowry to by a woman with." 

     "This is not-!" Dinesh threw his hands in the air in front of his body, defeated, done. His frustrated face was just too good. Gilfoyle almost forgot how much he liked this part of their interactions, just fucking with Dinesh, under how much he loved just fucking Dinesh. "You know what? I don't even care. You can mock my culture and my country all you want. Fuck you." 

      "Hm.” Gilfoyle crossed his arms. “What was the topping of the pizza you order last night again?" 

       There was a tired look in his eyes before he closed them. "Bacon", Dinesh answered. 

      "How many stones I get to throw at you for eating pork?" 

      "None, because you're not Muslim. And neither am I. Not anymore, I mean. I think. I haven't made my mind about it yet. I'm not freaking my parents out", he was massaging his temples again. “And you have to stop with the stoning jokes, dude! That’s not funny!” 

      "Yeah, imagine the disappointment when your parents find out you love the taste of pork meat and man meat in your mouth. What a disgrace. They’ll run out of stones fast." 

That one hit him differently. 

      Dinesh was staring up at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly open, both hands holding his waist tight, a breath held deep inside his lungs not coming out. Gilfoyle has seen that look before. It was usually the kind of look Dinesh shot him right before Gilfoyle decided to drop whatever joke he was pulling because it was probably too far. He may have this ugly, itchy need to step on Dinesh’s back until he was crying those pretentious lies out, but he doesn't really want to be there to see him actually crying. He can’t handle people crying. It’s unsettling. And, lately, he just doesn't want it to happen to Dinesh. 

     "Very funny", Dinesh said before turning his back and walking towards the bed. 

     Gilfoyle stood by the red suitcase, a golden tiara still on his hand, and watched him take his cellphone out of the nightstand to plug the charger. He was not sure why, put he but the tiara on. 

     “The bedsheets are on the top shelf”, he said, still having his back to Gilfoyle. “And put on some pants, for fuck's sake.” 

     Gilfoyle came back inside the closet and looked for the clean bedsheets. They were easily found, now that he knew where to look. Dinesh was sitting on the bed, fully dressed, looking into something on his phone with that frown on his face he usually had when Gilfoyle pissed him off and he was pretending he wasn’t pissed by coding, when actually he was just typing and erasing the very same line of code over and over, his mind occupied reliving the thing that got him so pissed. Now, he was opening and closing apps randomly. 

      “Hey!”, he complained when Gilfoyle took his cellphone. “What do you thi-…?” The sentence died, his hands jumping open along the sides of Gilfoyle’s torso as he made his way sitting on Dinesh’s lap. He looked up and down his body, the situation of having a naked man in his lap clearly still out of place for him. “Dude, we must have fucked more this weekend than I have for the past year. I’m tired. Give me a break.” 

      “Bullshit. You fucked more this weekend than you have your whole life.” A familiar judgmental expression came to Dinesh's face and he looked about to argue. “Also, your hormones stagnated somewhere in your teens and you’re unable to keep your dick down. Probably because you were too repressed during puberty to jerk off, afraid of having the big bad gay thoughts.” 

       Dinesh tried to go back to his phone, but Gilfoyle grabbed it and threw across the bed. 

      “I told you this isn’t funny”, he whispered. Why the fuck he was whispering was beyond logic, they were the only people in the room. "And why are you wearing this thing? It looks stupid, you know? You're stupid." 

      “Shut up, I look amazing in a gold tiara. And I’m not saying it is funny. But it’s true, isn’t it? Actually, it’s kind of sad.” 

      “Thank you very much. Keep your shitty condescension to yourself, will you?” 

      “I’m not going to ask you a second time”, he said and Dinesh tensed, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the clean bedsheets Gilfoyle dropped over the bed. His hands resting on Gilfoyle's thighs tightened the grip. “Do you want to talk about it?” He didn’t say anything and didn’t move. “I’m not going to mock whatever it is. Even I can’t be that much of an asshole.” 

      “I wouldn’t underestimate how much of an asshole you can be.” His tone was playful, loaded with mocker, maybe trying to have Gilfoyle answering the provocation and change the topic. But Gilfoyle said nothing and for a moment they just shared a gaze. The mocker slowly faded away and Dinesh swallowed dry. “There isn’t anything to say.” 

       Gilfoyle waited, but he didn’t say anything else. 

      “Okay.” Not pushing, he came down Dinesh’s lap and sat in bed next to him. 

       “I mean, I…” Gilfoyle was taking his phone to see if it was already turning back on when Dinesh talked again. He looked at the other. His eyes were moving around the room. “I know it isn’t a big deal. I mean, I  _know_ there’s nothing wrong with what we're doing.” 

      “But…?” Gilfoyle was sensing a  _but_. Sure there’s a but. 

       He let out a sigh and scratched his eyes. 

     “I don’t know. That’s the whole thing, actually. I don’t even know why I’m so reluctant in being okay with this?” He made another whinnying noise. Gilfoyle shifted on the mattress to be sitting in front of him, even if Dinesh wasn’t looking his way. “It's my family. My parents, precisely." 

     "You are afraid of your parents." Gilfoyle crossed his arms. "You realize you're an adult, right?" 

     "It happens that some people like their relatives?!" Dinesh answered with that same secretive rush. "I knew you wouldn't understand. We are close. Super close. Freaking close." 

     "I've seen your mother calling you five times a week. I would say  _unhealthy_ close." 

     "She can be overly protective", he said, defensive, also crossing his arms. "I know that, logically... Well, they grew more traditional here. I think it's a defense mechanism, you know? Not to be erased. I love my parents, they went through hell to give me a nice life. I know they wouldn't shut me off and logic says they'll be okay with it, but, to be truly sincere here, they wouldn't. It’s different when, you know… It’s their son. It’s not the guy in our street. It will really, really hurt them." 

      "So, don't tell them. Problem solved." 

       Dinesh snorted, rolling his eyes. "Sure, because they won't notice. When I said we should wait, I meant a few days, not forever. I'm not hiding that I'm with you. That's not how I want to do this." 

      "Wait", Gilfoyle tried to keep his face still through the turmoil of things buzzing in his head. "You want me to meet your parents?" He arranged the tiara on his head, Dinesh opening and closing his mouth, but not saying anything. "I extract joy from the chaos of happy families falling apart, but it won't be fun for you." 

      "I'm not saying now or tomorrow. Someday. I mean, they already know you. They know I live with you, and Richard and Jian Yang and stuff. And they may already hate you, too." 

       "You didn't paint me as good boyfriend material?" 

      "I don't lie to my parents." 

      "Says the almost forty years old man coming out." Gilfoyle smirked to Dinesh's discomfort, his arms still crossed over his chest. He kneeled on the bed and crawled towards Dinesh, climbing back onto his lap and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. This time, he didn't open his arms wide not to touch him, but hugged his waist. "I'll have points for the beard, though." 

       "God, they will hate your racist jokes so much! I can't promise they won't throw stones at you. Or that I will try to stop them." 

       "People usually bring me home to piss off their parents. That's what I'm good at. I make parents question their parenting skills." 

     Dinesh laughed. "You know what? I believe you. I'm questioning my own life choices here too." He put a hand up to arrange the tiara on Gilfoyle's head. "You can keep it, if you want. Not like I'm going to use it. And it's really cheap." 

      Gilfoyle blinked a couple times, but didn't say anything. He could sense the discomfort of the overly sentimental thing going on, just sitting there in Dinesh's lap looking at his face, but he couldn't bring himself to mind it much. It felt different in the light, the contours of Dinesh's face and his eyes watching him with equal interest, as if he was looking at him and truly seeing him for the first time. 

     Dinesh opened his mouth to say something, the fear in his eyes betraying what it would be even before he got it out. Gilfoyle could feel Dinesh's heartbeat too fast against his own chest. 

     "I know", he said before Dinesh could, beating him on that race and preventing him from actually saying the words. It was partly for Dinesh, who didn't seem able to deal with it for now, and part for himself, who wasn't sure he would be able to prevent a sappy disaster he would very much regret later if Dinesh said he loved him to his face. "Do you wax your eyebrows?" 

      Dinesh hasn't yet stopped ventilating when he frowned to the second thing Gilfoyle said. 

     "I... What?" 

     "Do you grow a unibrow if you don't?" 

      "You have a neckbeard, you know, asshole?" 

      "Why do you wax your eyebrows and not the rest? Do you have to shave twice a day? Your face is like a cactus." 

     "Because it hurts! Fuck you. Jesus." 

     As Dinesh didn't shave for two days, his face was thorny when Gilfoyle put his hand on his cheek. His full lips were still soft. It surprised him the first times it happened, since the early ones were hungry crashes of teeth and tongues and hair everywhere, but now their mouths and bodies fitting together was just obvious. It's like they've merged. 

     "I love you", Dinesh told him when they broke apart and it was just their foreheads together and fast breaths bouncing back. 

      He could have gone Han Solo right there, but he told him the truth and didn't regret it. 

 

 

     "What are you doing?" 

     Dinesh rolled over when he felt Gilfoyle moving on his arms and tried to pull him back by instinct, but he resisted and sat up. 

     "Easy, Rakshas Octopus, I'm not leaving. I just have a headache. You brought some pills earlier?" 

     "Oh, yeah. Over there." 

     Gilfoyle hummed and Dinesh sat up too, reaching for turning the lamp on. He watched as the other took a pill out of the bottle and swallowed it down with warm beer. 

      "By the way, what's up with the pills? You brought them but didn't take any." 

      Dinesh scratched his face and head, messing up his hair in an attempt to drive the sleep away. It wasn't fully dark, but the sun was setting outside. They slept for the most part of the evening; he was anticipating another all-nighter. Gilfoyle could sleep for days straight, apparently, but Dinesh probably wouldn't be able to keep it up until tomorrow. Shit. They had a meeting early. 

     "When I came out to take the pizza last night Jared asked if I was feeling okay, because, you know, I haven't left my room all day", he said and yawned. "I bumped into him in the kitchen when I was looking for your charger and I grabbed the bottle to cover up. I'm a fucking genius." 

     "Hm." Dinesh put his head on Gilfoyle's thigh and the other rested a hand on his forehead. The ring was cold. The long fingers on his scalp were nice. "Did he ask for me?" 

     "I think so. He wanted you to know about the meeting in Raviga tomorrow at eight and you weren't answering your phone, so he asked me to tell you. Why?" 

     "He asked you to tell me why?" 

     "I have no fucking clue, he must think we have telekinesis powers." 

     "I don't think that was the case." 

     Dinesh opened his eyes, looking up to see Gilfoyle was glaring down at his torso. He met Dinesh's gaze once realized Dinesh was looking at him. 

     "Don't freak out", Gilfoyle warned him and Dinesh was now definitely freaking out. "Were you wearing this when you went to the kitchen?" 

     Dinesh looked down at his torso too. 

     "Shit!", he cursed aloud. "Do you think he noticed?" 

     "You look fucking good in black other than your usual ugly dad polos, and it's Jared, so I'm going with yes, he did notice you're wearing my clothes, genius." 

     Racing to relive the interaction earlier in his mind, Dinesh kept looking at Gilfoyle's shirt on his body. He felt the initial hint of panic slowly fade away and looked for those crushing feelings that ran over him the first time he saw everybody after Gilfoyle kissed him for the first time. The shame, the paranoia, anger. Some surprise was there, but no fear. He felt nothing and rested his head back on Gilfoyle's lap. 

      "Whatever", he said and closed his eyes. 

 

 

 

     "Are we going doing this again?" | "My room tonight?" 

     They both said it at the same time and stopped dressing up, fast lifting their heads to look at one another. 

     "Why wouldn't we do this again?", asked Gilfoyle. 

      "Why your room? Your room is a dump", said Dinesh as he buttoned his pants. 

      "I'm done with Spock here staring at me", he pointed one of the action figures Dinesh had on a shelf. "It's like I'm doing it with a fourteen years old boy in his room. I keep waiting for your mom to show up with the police." 

      "Well", Dinesh finished with his pants and put on a shirt. "It's an understandable fear you should keep. My mom will definitely show up with cops when she sees the tattoos." 

     Gilfoyle looked at the inverted cross on his arm and snorted before putting the flannel on and covering it. "Are you sure it will be the tattoos, and not me sodomizing her son?" 

     "That too." 

      Dinesh took his bag from a chair and passed it over his shoulder. Gilfoyle was still putting his shoes on. He waited by the door, arms crossed, and as soon as the other got up from the bed, Dinesh unlocked the door and looked over to the living room. No one in sight. 

     "Okay, you can go." 

     "Are we sneaking?", asked Gilfoyle with a hint of playfulness, a hand coming to grope Dinesh's ass. "Hot." 

     "Shut up." He pulled Gilfoyle's hand away, but didn't let go and held it. Gilfoyle looked down at Dinesh holding his hand and a short smirk showed up in his mouth, his head doing a light curious nod when he looked back up. He was going to say something to embarrass him, Dinesh knew it in his bones, so he used his other hand to pull him down and kissed him. 

     "Is this how you're going to shut me up for now on?" he asked once they broke apart. 

     "Okay, your room", Dinesh said as he pushed Gilfoyle out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, I wrote 100 pages of slow burn, I think I deserve to be cheesy for at least one chapter lol  
> I hope this was enough Dinfoyle smut and cuteness for you guys? And that it wasn't TOO sweet?  
> Quick random thing: a friend of mine has pointed out that in some countries people don't have vaccines marks on their arms (I have, people in Pakistan have) and it freaked her american boyfriend out, so I guess Gilfoyle wouldn't have seen one of those either and would be curious? Just some really random day-to-day stuff I was thinking about and put in there.  
> This chapter was bigger than I was expecting, so it took me some time to do a careful reading looking for mistakes. I'm not so sure I didn't let a lot of them pass, but the same as I did to the other chapters, I'll be editing what I see/people tell me.  
> Really hope you guys enjoy this, I'm glad it's done :)  
> I'm posting the epilogue as soon I finish editing some stuff!


	10. Fucking Gilfoyle

    "Okay, I have to ask", Gilfoyle said as he put a coffee mug on his work table. The gesture wasn’t rough, but it made a louder noise than it would have if the Pied Piper's building weren't empty; enough to wake Dinesh up from his coding trance with a jump. 

     It was Sunday, but they were never much of regular employees, so they were still working. And they didn't have many employees, so this too had something to do with why they were still working on a Sunday evening. 

     "I have two theories about this scratching”, he continued. “One: you made the terrible choice of shaving your balls again." Dinesh frowned, taking his hand away from the front of his pants. "Two:", Gilfoyle kept going, not affected by his disapproving expression, "you contracted STD. The first one is only possible if you somehow did it between this morning and right now, however, the latter is just impossible. So, Dinesh, have you shaved your balls during lunch and why?" 

     "How are you so sure I haven't got STD? For all I know, I could've caught something from you", Dinesh replied and resumed typing, choosing not to grow embarrassed by the subject of his balls being brought up all of sudden and continuing working. 

     "Nope, I'm clean." 

     He finally stopped typing and crossed his arms, supporting them both on his chair's armrest. 

     "Maybe I got it from someone else", he said, lighting shaking his head in that way he always does when is trying to be smug. Gilfoyle snorted and drank a sip of his coffee. 

     "I would actually be proud of you." 

      "No, you wouldn't, you would be devastated. Like,  _'oh Dinesh, why am I not enough for you?'"_  his voice pitched in a tone that in no way resembled Gilfoyle's, drawing closer to a little girl, but that was probably the point. _"'Is_ _it how much I suck at Perl?_ '" 

      "Hm. You seem to think I would succumb to such irrational feeling as jealousy for you." A smile that Dinesh hated more than loved, but maybe he could feel both things about it, came to the corner of his lips as Gilfoyle raised the mug closer to his mouth. "Adorable." 

     "Don't...! I'm not adorable." 

      "Do you think it’s emasculating that I find you adorable?" He was still holding the mug up. "That's adorable", Gilfoyle took a long, unnecessarily loud sip of coffee. 

     Dinesh stared at him with his eyebrows coming down dark eyes and shoulders falling forward, a posture and expression Gilfoyle knew too well. He wasn't going to argue through it, posing as if he was the superior being that found that attitude ridiculous and wouldn't come down Gilfoyle's level. He was just out of a good comeback. Dinesh was the sorest loser Gilfoyle ever met. 

     "Guys, please", Richard complained, a sound no adult should be able to do coming out of his mouth as he sighed. "We have a ton of stuff overdue, since you guys won't hire anyone. I can't deal with whatever stupid nagging this is right now. Let's just work quietly, okay?" 

     Gilfoyle took his seat in front of his computer and they typed in silence for ten seconds until Dinesh was touching his groin and shifting on the chair again. 

      "You still haven't answered my question", Gilfoyle pointed out, to what he saw Richard's face contract with a nervous, tired spasm. 

     "It's nothing, man, just..." And another uncomfortable shifting, his face squirming. "I wasn't able to do laundry last week since there's a Chinese camp set in our house and I ran out of clean underwear. So, I was looking through my stuff and found one I didn't remember having, but it's just too tight? It's like scrambled eggs party down here." 

     "I can see why you liked the STD story better. I can't believe I was wasting my time thinking about this." Gilfoyle nodded, shifted his chair around and went back to his work. 

     "Do you have to keep doing that?", Richard asked. Now that everybody in the room was aware of his problem, Dinesh was shamelessly pulling his underwear through his jeans. 

     "Oh, I'm sorry that my suffering is inconvenient to you, Richard, but I don't think I will ever be able to have kids because of these stupid trunks", he cried out in anger and exacerbated despair. 

     "Dude, just take them off!" 

     "What? And walk around with no underwear? I'm not an animal, Gilfoyle!" 

     "Wait", Gilfoyle stopped typing, his head snapping around, like he just had a sudden enlightenment. "You don't wear trunks. You just have ugly boxers." 

     "They're not ugly, they're comfortable, but yeah I thought so too. My mom must have sent them." 

     "Mhmm, I'll go back to your mother sending you underwear later. What color?" 

     Dinesh frowned. "Black, I think?" 

     "With white waistband?" 

      "How do you kno…?" Dinesh stopped talking and Gilfoyle knew he just realized it too. "No." 

     "Second drawer on the nightstand, where you keep your Magic cards in case you need to battle to protect your virginity?" 

     Dinesh didn't reply and Richard kept frowning at his screen, unable to zoom out of the conversation, but also denying participation. 

     "Why the fuck are you keeping your underwear on my nightstand?!", Dinesh half-shouted, half-whispered, hoping the tone was low enough to prevent Richard from listening, yet rash enough for Gilfoyle to fear his rage. It was none of those things. "And why is it so freaking small? You’re not that slimmer than me!"  

     "It's not small on me", he shrugged. "Maybe you're getting fat. I heard people let go once they settle down." 

     And there it was again, the same  _I can't fucking believe how low you are and I'm not participating in this, you should be ashamed of yourself_ kind of pretentious look. 

      "I dig that you have the body type of a dyke. Small, but thick in the middle. Like spring rolls." 

     "5'8'' is average." 

     "Okay, what the fuck?!" Richard's suddenly shouting cut out the "are we still talking about height or shifted to the length of your list of regrets in life? Because you're not 5'8'' and your list of regrets is way past that" that Gilfoyle was planning to say. They both looked at him. Richard let out a sorry excuse for a laugh. "Why are you two talking like this?", and another weird, maniacal laugh. "I don't even understand this joke. Are you trying to trick me into thinking you two are fucking for some reason? You think I'm letting you off this all-nighter because of it? Because if this is it, it's not going to happen! We being here is your fault, guys! We have so much work to do, so please,  _please_ , let's finish this and stop this homo bullshit or I'm going to fuck the both of you!" 

     Dinesh and Gilfoyle shared a look that Richard didn't like a bit. It lasted longer than a normal glare, like they were debating something with their eyes. Gilfoyle crossed his arms and Dinesh leaned in towards Richards, rolling his chair closer. 

     "Dude", Dinesh called, a warning tone, an eyebrow going up. "It's not a joke." 

     There was a moment of silence where nothing happened in Richard's face before he stuttered a nervous: "W-wha-wha-what?!" 

     "I'm fucking Dinesh for months, how did you not notice it?" Gilfoyle's insight got Richard's laugh shut in no time and his eyes widening. 

     "Dude! No, that's not-" Urgent hands waved towards Gilfoyle before Dinesh went back to Richard, laughing as maniacally nervous as the other did before. "It's actually more like me fucking Gilfoyle for months, you know?" 

     "Yeah, that makes it less gay." 

     "Shut up!" Dinesh shifted again, this time more uncomfortable with what was happening above the table than below it. He had that unsettled shifting in his expression he usually had when he was looking for a way to win an argument. It usually ended up being something stupid. It was going to be something stupid. "You know, Gilfoyle also said he loved me first." 

     And there it was, the most unrequired, weird, compromising shit no one needed know that he could have dug out. What a broken human being. Gilfoyle caught himself smiling. Dinesh's face fell to it, regretful, but not backing off from the trigger. 

     Richard was more freaked out by what looked a lot like affection in Gilfoyle's features than he was about what Dinesh said. Or about what anyone said, really. That's affection in Gilfoyle's face, it can't get any weirder than that. 

     Gilfoyle turned to Richard, arms still crossed over his chest. 

     "That's my boyfriend", he said as he always said anything, flat and cold. "He's an asshole." 

     "We haven't discussed the B word yet", Dinesh instantly felt the need to highlight. 

      "Blowjobs?" 

     "What... How... Why... What the fuck?!" Richard was never much articulated. Gilfoyle though he grew numb to it, like when you watch a funny clip for so long it lost the ability to take a reaction out of you. As Richard's face became red and then green, the words lost in the middle of the link between his brain and mouth, he noticed he was wrong. This was still funny as hell. "Is this for real?", he finally went through a full sentence. 

     Gilfoyle reached into his pocket and took out his cellphone. 

     "Yeah, Jared made us sign a Consensual Relationship Agreement contract and all", answered Dinesh. “I mean, we wouldn’t have, but it was the only way to stop him from keep listing rules about dating a co-worker to us.” 

     “No, you didn’t”, Richard laughed. “I would have known! You guys are shitting me, aren’t you?” 

      “Here.” 

     “What the fuck?!” Richard jumped, putting both hands up to cover the screen shoved in front of his face. Just in case it wasn’t enough to block the image, he also turned his head and closed his eyes. His face contorted when he realized it was still printed in his eyelids. 

     “What?” Dinesh furrowed in panic and froze seeing the way Richard reacted to Gilfoyle showing him something on his phone. “What did you show him?” 

     Gilfoyle turned the phone to him. 

     “What the fuck?!”, screamed Dinesh, a high pitch in his voice that resembled the one he used when impersonating Gilfoyle before. He reached for Gilfoyle’s hand and harshly put the phone down. “Why do you have this on your phone? What the… When did you…? And why are you showing it to fucking Richard?! Are you insane?” 

     “You two are worse than teenagers when it comes to human nudity”, Gilfoyle put his phone back into his pocket. “It’s just a butt. Everybody has one.” 

     “Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I want to see your butts!”, Richard covered his eyes with a hand. “Jesus Christ, I can’t unsee it.” 

     “Fucking delete it!”, Dinesh hissed. 

     “Why?” Gilfoyle squeezed his eyes. He always found it amusing how Dinesh could get that red sometimes. It was usually by anger, but he could see the appeal of taking that reaction out of him for other reasons. “Can’t a guy have a picture of his boyfriend sleeping naked in his bed?” 

     “I’m really concern about my safety if you don’t see why it isn’t okay that you would take any pictures of me when I’m unconscious!” 

     “So”, he grabbed the mug and raised it, but didn’t drink. “Is it a bad time to tell you I send this to Tara?” 

     Dinesh moved his arms around and managed a series unintelligible frustrated sounds. 

      “Why?!”, he finally dragged out a real word out of his groans. 

     “She was sending me pictures”, he said and took a sip of the coffee, eyes locked on his screen. “Last week, she sent me one of her butt naked on her bed, so I looked to the side, saw you butt naked on my bed, and thought it would send the message. It worked. She stopped.” 

     “Oh.” 

      “Yep.” 

      They eyes met when Gilfoyle raised his head for a moment to measure the damage. Dinesh looked something else entirely out of the pissed he was a second ago. They couldn’t stop the eye contact and it was making Richard’s head spin. 

     "Again", said Gilfoyle, having to do something to get out of it, since Jared let clear that throw Dinesh into the bathroom and demand to fuck wasn't workplace friendly behavior. "How the fuck did you not notice it? It's your company. Also, we all live together." 

     "How long is this...?" 

     "Hm", Dinesh looked at Gilfoyle, uncertain. "Since the day after our servers were scattered on the road because you were being an asshole?" 

     "Dick", Gilfoyle suddenly said. "He was being a dick. Which is also short for Richard, so... Yep, I'm calling you that for no own, in Anton's memory. And I would go with since the last HooliCon." 

     "Really?" Dinesh sounded surprised, both eyebrows going up. "If you're counting that, wouldn't be more accurate to say since we spend a weekend at Keenan's house?" 

     "I'm not counting, just making a statement for when it became a regular thing. So, since HooliCon." 

     Dinesh hummed, considering it, then nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's pretty much it." 

     Richard shook his head and Gilfoyle was inclined to say that it was probably not a good idea for someone who pukes when distressed, but he also wanted to see Dick puke, so he kept quiet. 

     "Why did you guys tell Jared and not me?" 

     "We didn't tell Jared." Why was Gilfoyle not surprised that this was the question Richard was going for, and that he sounded hurt? "He suspected for a while. Dinesh here is not a good liar. And he caught us leaving the bathroom together a couple weeks ago. You know how the fridge is always full and none of us is buying shit? That's Jared, apparently. We saw you and Jian Yang going out and forgot he still had a key and was a thing in this plan of existence." 

      "In case you're wondering...", Dinesh went back to his work, scrolling past lines of code. "No, our tub isn't big enough for two people." 

     "I..." Richard shut his eyes tight and it was all just too good. They should have done this sooner. "I wasn't wondering, thanks." 

     "Actually, I think we got it wrong", Gilfoyle threw it in, since tease the weaker link pairing up with Dinesh was almost as good as teasing Dinesh. "It seems the obvious way to go that I would be on top, but with a tub that small, it should work better with you on top and my legs out." 

     Dinesh frowned, not really picturing it, and Gilfoyle tried to show him with his hands doing two tiny people fucking on top of each other. 

     "Oh yeah", he turned all the way to the other, exanimating the finger persons with analytical attention. After a moment, Dinesh seemed skeptical. "I don't know. Where would my knees go, dude? And that's flattering to you, but you're not that flexible, Gilfoyle." 

     "Fuck you, I'm flexible." 

     "You're going to hurt your back." 

     "All I hear is that you can't handle me." 

     Dinesh squeezed his eyes at him. 

    "Bring it on, you freaking living-dead creep." 

     "Guys, we all use that tub!", Richard called them out. Dinesh blinked and looked back at him, completely forgetting about Richard for a moment. "Please, don't do anything weird on the things we all share." 

     "Are you saying that our intense, feral, athirst and flaring consensual lovemaking is weird? I haven't picture you as a homophobic, Dick." 

     "Gross. Just say sex." 

     "I want to stop this conversation right now. And it's not because I'm homophobic or anything. I'm not. I know lots of gay people like, uh... You guys, apparently, so... I'm okay with it, just keep it clean and out of the workspace. And out of the tub where I bath in. Please." 

      "I'm not making any promises", Gilfoyle breathed out and went back to typing where he left it off. 

     Two sets of hands pressing fingers on keys followed him after a moment, and then two more. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand it's finished! Thanks for reading until the end, hope it was as fun for you to read as it was for me to write :)  
> I really want to know why Gilfoyle is calling Richard "Dick" all of sudden in Season 5, but as the show don't show us, I have this theory above.  
> I decided to do a 10 chapters slowburn Dinfoyle because 1- I couldn't find a Dinfoyle longfic and I just needed it 2- I guessed if I wrote one big thing, I would get tired of those two and never go back to Dinfoyle again. I was wrong. I'm not done with Dinfoyle. I've three more fics planned and already halfway done, two of them being sequels to this. I'm doing it in a way people can read the new ones without reading Git Merge before, so I'm not yet sure if I'll turn this into a series (but I probably am? uh decisions to make. tell me if you have any thoughts on this).  
> The other two coming up are Overlapping Conflict and Data Storage Conflict. The first one I'll be posting earlier because it's almost done and it's basically Gilfoyle going through several stages dealing with Dinesh not wanting to bottom. The second one is focused on Richard an how he keeps forgetting Dinesh and Gilfoyle are a thing now.  
> So, that's it. I'll keep posting random Dinfoyle fanart on my tumblr whenever I need to back away from my comic pages or I'll flip (it's atxnolasco if you haven't seen it), and writing cute things for this ship.  
> Again, hope it was fun for you, sorry if my English was hard to understand at some point, and thanks for sticking to the end!  
> See ya.


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